


It Wasn't Exactly Legal (Rewrite)

by closetklaine27



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Amnesia, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closetklaine27/pseuds/closetklaine27
Summary: I don’t know who I am or where I am. But there’s only one thing I’m sure of, I’m supposed to be irresistibly and irrevocably in love with Oliver Hampton. Amnesia AU!





	1. It's the Greek god

**BETAE'D BY MOMO015!**

HI guys!

_Closetklaine here. Since Glee had ended, I was looking for a new couple to ship (That doesn't mean that I'm not a klainer anymore! I will always be a klainer by heart), and COLIVER showed up. The sexual tension they have on 'How To Get Away With Murder' is so awesome. I just wish Ryan Murphy would have put those kind of CoLiver scenes as Klaine scenes. That would skyrockets Glee's rating. Hahaha._

_Anyway, I would be starting a new fanfiction for this new ship, and I really hope you would like it. It is originally a storyline I made for Klaine, but since Glee had ended, I lost interest in continuing it. I actually published two chapters in my account entitled "Stories That I Can't Explain'. It was done too fast and the scenes were too confusing, one of the reasons I didn't continue writing 'T TAKE A PEEK THOUGH! IT WILL SPOIL YOU FOR UPCOMING EVENTS._

**Please Read with Caution** _._

**AN AU NO ONE ASKED.**

* * *

**_"There are no accidents… there is only some purpose that we haven't yet understood."_ **

* * *

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" the examiner asked the witness.

"I swear," the witness replied and nervously looked around the court room as he sat down.

"Agent Fain," Annalise started as she approached the detective, "why did you decide to inspect my client's container?"

"Because my team was alerted to a discrepancy with the container's weight," the detective answered immediately, almost seems like he anticipated that particular question.

"So this gives you the right to search the container?" She asked sarcastically, her left eyebrows turned upward, provoking the man, who had just taken an oath to tell the truth, to lie.

"Objection, lack of foundation," the prosecutor countered.

"Overruled," the judge replied. "Answer the question," he instructed the witness.

"That's correct. It is within my right," Agent Fain said while he shook his head; an obvious sign that the witness was lying. Only Annalise and her associates noticed this kind of micro-expression, and knew immediately that the man had lied. It's not enough though to win this case; she needed to bring her star witness.

"What was the name of the employee who first decided to weigh the container?" She probed for more.

"Can't say I recall," Agent Fain responded with a nod. A negative statement, but his body language is stating differently; another micro-expression.

 _'Again with the lie,'_ Annalise thought to herself.

"His name is Pedro Hortua, and he left his job two days after the incident and disappeared without any forwarding address or information. And once the investigation started, no one could find him," she said with a smirk on her face; Waiting to prove the prosecutors wrong. "Now you all may think that, that was enough time to escape and disappear, but my client is innocent."

She heard the prosecutor snickered on her back; she turned to him and eyed him with contempt. "Thankfully, I did. Mr. Hortua?" She turned to the audience, and anticipated for her star witness to be already standing, but instead, she saw one of his interns, Connor Walsh, gasping and sweating in front of her.

Connor just shook his head, and Annalise knew what had happened.

"Ms. Keating, your witness please," the judge said with impatience.

"May we have a short recess?" Annalise pleaded instead of presenting her star witness.

The judge looked at her wrist watch before announcing, "We'll take a break for lunch," and struck the gavel.

The audience dispersed at once.

"What is happening?" Mr. Lombardo, mob boss and Keating's client, asked the associate attorney beside him. "I thought everything had already straightened out," he stated with terror.

"Just take a break, Mr. Lombardo. We'll handle it from here," Bonnie replied emotionlessly as she gathered their files from the table. She walked out from him, and went to the break room assigned to their team.

"What do you mean you lose Hortua?!" Annalise shrieked at Connor, the intern who was responsible for 'babysitting' their star witness.

"He said that he just want to take a leak, and…" he answered with embarrassment, not even finishing his own explanation, as he heard how pathetic his excuse was.

"A law student who was deceived by the oldest trick in the book," she humorlessly laughed at the irony. "You're in the wrong line of business, Mr. Walsh," she snickered. "Don't make me regret giving you that ring." She pointed at the Golden ring that Connor was wearing on his middle finger. All the students who Annalise chose had been given that emblem. It was customized for each batch that she handles.

All of them, except Bonnie and Frank—who were used to Keating's demeaning personality, cowered at the insult.

Annalise studied the four interns in front of her and sighed deeply. "This is pointless. I'll always have to clean up your mess," she took her bag from the seat and trudged forward the door. "I'll ask the judge to reschedule the trial next week. Bonnie, with me," she instructed, and the short-haired blonde obliged.

"Whoever finds the witness, gets the trophy," Annalise said finally as she slammed the door behind her in frustration, that one of her best interns would fall for such a childish trick; but like always, rewards make them work like dogs.

* * *

"What do you mean you're going to Michigan?!" Laurel exclaimed as she trespassed Connor's loft.

"Well, that was quick," Connor shouted from his bedroom. He just literally texted Laurel a minute ago that he will be going to Michigan, and she was already here.

"I was already in the neighborhood with your coffee," Laurel placed the two paper coffee cups on the kitchen counter, and went to the bedroom. "What are you doing?" she demanded when she saw Connor packing his clothes in a small luggage.

"I told you, I'm going to Michigan," he responded coolly.

"Seriously, Connor," Laurel said in annoyance, "Stop for a minute and tell me the why you are going to Michigan." She demanded.

Connor sighed deeply, "When I was talking with Hortua," he started but didn't stop packing his stuff, "…where's my toothbrush?" He mumbled to myself and went to the bathroom.

"Connor Walsh!" Laurel shrieked.

"Okay, okay," Connor raised both his arms, hands holding his toothbrush and toothpaste. "Stop shouting. I remembered Hortua telling me about his best man living in Michigan. He was working in the cargo industry before, just like Hortua was, but then he disappeared without any notice. He might know where Hortua is," he explained as he finally zipped his duffel bag.

"Connor, are you insane?" Laurel asked him incuriously. "Do you even know what you are getting into?"

"Don't be an idiot, L," he said as he carried the bag on his shoulder.

"You're the idiot here. You're dumb enough to mess with the mob!" She exclaimed when Connor ignored her completely. "This is not just the mob and the police. It's a mob war, and the police are just merely puppets being manipulated by the enemies of the Lombardo family!" Laurel started to think that Connor might have actually lost him mind from the work and stress of Annalise Keating. For Connor to go around and mess with a mob is one thing, but getting killed in the process is insane. Laurel didn't even know if Connor was thinking this through.

"It will be fine," Connor said once again; he rolled his eyes when he came face-to-face with Laurel, blocking him from the door. "Just let me go. I needed to do this."

"Is this because of that ridiculous trophy—"

"It's not about that!"

"—or because of what Annalise has said?" She asked, but she already knew what would be Connor's answer. "Con, you don't have to take her seriously. She just said that because she was mad—"

"True or not, I still have to find Hortua," he still pressed. "It was my fault, and I have to make this right."

"Just stop for a minute and stop thinking like Annalise' pet," she pleaded once more. "If you persist in finding this witness, there's no guarantee that nothing will happen to you, Connor."

Needless to say, Connor does not need a minute to think as he answered her immediately, "I'll be back," he said and kissed Laurel's forehead.

* * *

Connor carefully parked his rental car across the apartment building where Hortua's friend lived. He unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his phone. He quickly texted Laurel that he arrived alive and safe in Michigan. He then put his phone back to his messenger bag, alongside with the files of the Lombardo case, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and began scratching his left thumb fingernail with his right thumb, a mannerism he always had whenever he feel extreme emotions.

"Fuck it," Connor said finally and went out from the car, crossed the street, climb the short stoned stairs and rang the intercom for apt 217.

*buzz*

"Who is it?" The man from the other line asked.

"Is Walter Hernandez there?" Connor asked in a firm yet polite tone.

There was a small pause before the man replied.

"Who's asking?" The man, Connor guessed to be Walter Hernandez, asked nervously.

"My name is Connor Walsh, I'm one of the lawyers who were working for your friend—Mr. Hortua's case. I was wondering—"

"I don't know a Hortua!" Hernandez exclaimed immediately.

"Mr. Hernandez, please," Connor begged. "You're the only connection that we have with Mr. Hortua, and we really need to look for him. His life might be in danger."

"Look, man," Walter sighed before continuing, "as much as I want to help, I really don't know where that bastard is."

And the intercom went dead.

"Walter! Walter!" Connor yelled, but Walter didn't reply. "Shit!" He paced around the limited space of the patio.

 _'Think Connor, think,'_ He thought to himself. He remembered one of the tricks that Frank, Annalise's associate, used when they're trying to get inside an apartment building before.

From the list of the registered apartment number, he looked for the nameplate that is not yet carved permanently. He then spotted a handwritten temporary nameplate inserted for apt 303 belonging to Mrs. Goodwin.

He buzzed it.

"Hi! Who's this?" A woman's sweet voice answered.

"Hi! Mrs. Goodwin. I'm Walter Hernandez from the apartment below you. I'm really sorry if I have not introduced myself properly when you moved in, but I forgot my keys inside my apartment. And I was hoping if you could buzz me in," Connor asked sweetly.

"Oh, sure darling." She replied and the front door open.

"Thank you, I'll bring you a basket of muffins later," he lied.

"Not a problem."

Connor barely heard the response of the woman since he was already running towards the staircase, foregoing the use of the elevator.

"211… 212… 215… Here it is, apartment 217," he said to no one, trying very hard to calm himself down.

He knew that if he knocks, he will just be shut out, but this was a desperate time. He turned the knob of the door, thankfully it was open, so he doesn't have to break it down.

"Oh thank g**, you're already home, babe," a man—Connor suspected to be Walter—exclaimed in relief when he heard the door open. But his relief was short lived, when it was not his partner who he saw inside the apartment.

Walter who was wearing only a plain black shirt, and denim pants which was too long for his short legs, and might have the same height as Connor. He also has same facial hair as Connor, their chin and upper lip was covered with scruff.

"You're not Ian!" Walter exclaimed from across the hallway, clearly frightened at the man in front of him. He immediately grabbed the frying pan, carelessly resting on the kitchen counter. "Who are you? And what do you want?" Walter demanded ready to strike if the stranger was going to hurt him.

"Calm down," Connor told him, and carefully walked towards the hysteric man, "I'm Connor, You were talking to me earlier."

That statement alone made the other man drop the frying pan, and agitatedly took his cellphone from his pocket and dialed his husband's number again.

"Ian come on, come on babe. Pick up, pick up," Walter said in hysterics, ignoring the intruder in his apartment.

 _'This might have Laurel felt when I was ignoring her earlier,'_ Connor thought, letting the man finish his phone call first.

"Ian!" Walter shouted with relief, and Connor can't help but eavesdrop at the one-sided conversation.

"Where are you, babe?"

"Go home after you pick her up, okay?"

"We need to go."

"Y…Yes."

"I love you more."

Walter finally hung up the phone, and took the picture frames hanging around the apartment. One of which was a wedding picture of himself and another man, another photograph was of the same couple, but this time, Walter's husband was holding a baby girl on his arms. The last picture that Walter took was a Iantmas photo of their whole family, including their parents and siblings.

"What are you doing?" Connor wandered when he saw Walter packing lots of clothes; too many for a vacation, and you won't pack picture frames if you are just going on a trip.

"I'm doing what you should be doing," Walter said sarcastically, and continued packing their stuff.

"What?"

"You clearly don't know what you got into, boy," Walter sighed before turning to Connor. "Look man. I don't want any more trouble. I'm happy with my life now. I'm happily married to the most wonderful man, our daughter just turned three, and I don't want to mess things up because of my past. Pedro was a good person, and he was a good friend to me. But he just kept being involved with ' _those_ ' guys."

"Walter," Connor started. "I won't dig up your past, and I don't want you to be involved in this—"

"Too late," Walter interjected.

"—all I need is information where you think Hortua is. That's it. Then I'll leave, I won't ever bother you again," Connor pleaded, hoping that Walter will give him any kind of hint of Pedro's whereabouts.

"The truth is, I really don't know where he is, because if he is here, I'll kill him myself," Walter said, and Connor knew that this man was serious with the threat. "But I remembered that his ex-girlfriend lived in Columbia, Georgia… Gloria.. Gabriela… I forgot man, but that's the only place that I can think of."

"Thanks, that was really helpful," Connor said with sincerity, and raised his arms to initiate a handshake. The clue might have been vague, but at least it's not a dead end. He just needs to find Pedro's ex-lover.

"Sure," Walter shook his hand. "Good luck; you'll be needing lots of it."

* * *

_*shutter*_

_*shutter*_

_*shutter*_

"Yeah, I have my eyes on him," the man stated over the phone as he took pictures of the target.

"Good," a deep scruff voice replied. "Make it… accidental."

"Understood," the man who was taking pictures replied and hang up the phone. He continued taking pictures of his target.

* * *

"Hampton speaking," Oliver answered his cellphone in a rush. His hands were too busy repairing the old junk of a computer that a customer brought in earlier, so he used his wireless earphones to answer it.

"O-man!" Asher exclaimed from the other line, making Oliver cringed from the loudness of his best friend's voice.

"Asher, I'm working," he said immediately. Knowing full well his best friend antics, Asher will just ask him to hang out.

"Come on man, it's my big day."

"Your big day, it's a week from now, Ash" Oliver retorted. "Shit!" He cursed himself when he saw a spark from when the pliers touched the micro disk. ' _That should not happen.'_

"Come on man, it's been a long time since I haven't seen you," Asher reasoned out.

"You saw me this morning, and you lived next door. What are you talking about?" Oliver explained while fanning out the small fire on the dashboard.

"Oh come on man," Asher pouted, even if Oliver can't see it. "Don't kill my beat man. It's Friday, and we both deserve a night out.

"I'm working."

"I have something to tell you…"

"Why can't you tell me over the phone?"

"Because our phone call may be tapped," Asher stated like it was obvious.

"You are ridiculous, you know that? Fine. I could also use some time off," Oliver finally relented, recognizing the hint of seriousness on his friend's voice. "Let's meet at Scandals—"

"The gay club?"

"—It's not a gay club!" Oliver retorted. "I just have to fix something thereand I'll be finish in an hour. So let's meet by.. 9pm."

"Yes sir," Asher answered mockingly, mimicking the voice and accent of a soldier responding to his superiors.

Oliver smiled as he hang up the phone, he wondered for a second what was bothering his friend, but dismissed it immediately since he will know it later when they met. He then just concentrated in fixing the trash in his hands.

* * *

"For another $80. I'll change the speed to 50 mbps," Oliver negotiated with the manager of Scandals.

"That's a hard bargain," the manager, John, looked at Oliver who was on top of the steel ladder, repairing the bar's Wi-Fi, inconveniently located on the hanging stand in the center of the resto-bar.

"$60, and a Maker's Manhattan," Oliver stated, while separating the blue wires from the red. "Is that a deal?

"Deal," the manager finally agreed. He strode towards the bar and instructed the bartender to give the technician—Oliver—the service fee and the alcoholic drink once he was finished with the repair.

"I'll leave it here," John shouted to Oliver before going back to his office.

"Sure, thanks!" Oliver yelled back, and took him eight more minutes before he fixed it. He closed the lid of the modem, and carefully climbed down.

"O-man!" Asher shouted form the entrance, making Oliver be startled and slipped from the ladder.

Oliver was expecting for a hard concrete table top to cause him pain, but he only felt a warm body against his back and soft hands gripping his forearms.

"Be careful there," the man, who saved Oliver from embarrassment and extreme pain, said.

"Thank you," Oliver said sincerely, still clutching the tools to his chest. He stood up firmly, and turned around to say thank you again, but he was too mesmerized by the man's beauty. "Uh…gri...kyu."

"Excuse me?" the stranger, — the Greek god— as Oliver's mind supplied, said.

"Ahh... Uhmmm..." Oliver stuttered, hands fidgeting on the sides, his face has started to redden, and his heart started to pound in his chest. "Yeah… Uhmmm.. Okay."

The Greek god scrunched his nose, trying to figure out what the other guy was trying to say. "Are you alright?"

"Oliver!" Asher shouted from the other side of the room, and strutted forward his best friend and the stranger. "It's time to release the Kraken!" Asher exclaimed, tongue out as he humped the air, embarrassing his friend and the stranger.

"I'll just go," The Greek god excused himself, and left the bar.

"Oh my g** Asher! Stop it!" Oliver said, ashamed of his best friend's antics. He went to the bar, took a sit, and pocketed the service fee that the bartender gave him. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Oh come on, you were totally drooling over that guy," Asher explained, and sat on the stool beside his friend. "I actually saved you from looking like you're having an epilepsy attack."

Asher then mocked him; with his left hand twisted weirdly in front of his face, the other slightly below his chest, and his head twisted to the left. "Uhh.. Uhmmm…. I'm Owiver and I wuv you," he said while his whole body was twitching.

"Stop it," Oliver said, obviously pissed at the imitation.

"Fine, I'm sorry man," Asher apologized sincerely. "Come on, we're here to have fun."

"No," Oliver started but not continuing until he took a sip of his drink, "we're here because you wanted to tell me something. So, what is it?"

"The thing is…" Asher started; he took a deep breath, and faced his best friend. "I… I have a…"

"You have a…?" Oliver persuaded him to continue.

"Ughhh. Fuck it!" Asher slammed his fist on the counter. "One Bourbon," he ordered.

"Hey, I thought you will be the designated driver tonight?" Oliver asked him, still in the right mind to be responsible for both of their lives.

"Just one drink," Asher pleaded. "I need liquid courage to say this."

"You change teams?" Oliver said with humor to lighten to the mood.

"Oliver…"

"Fine, but just one drink," Oliver warned him with his pointed finger. "If you order another one, then we'll have to grab a taxi instead."

"Fine," Asher relented and finished the whole glass of Bourbon with one gulp.

"So?"

"So what?" Asher asked.

"What do you want to tell me?" Oliver laughed at Asher.

"Oh! Oh…" Asher looked at his friend's face again, "I have… I'm…" He breathed deeply. "I'm in lo..love," Asher confessed lamely. Oliver knew that it wasn't what Asher wanted to tell him. Every time that Asher lies, he'll bit and chew his side lip, and that's what he was doing right now.

Oliver knew that his best friend was lying, he let it go though, he won't pry until Asher was ready to tell him. So instead, he just went along with the fake story.

"Is that the nurse you're always talking about?" Oliver asked him earnestly.

"Yes," Asher answered with a smile.

 _'It probably wasn't a lie though.'_ Oliver thought when he mentioned the nurse and Asher's face lit up.

"So when will I finally meet her?" Oliver asked. "And don't give me that crap that I cannot meet the girls you're ' _casually'_ dating coz' you don't want them to think that you're serious with them. You are obviously serious with this Michaela, so it's time for me and her to meet," Oliver said in one breath.

"You'll see her at the reunion. She's my date."

"So you really are serious with her!" Oliver exclaimed, and nudged Asher's side with his elbow. "But you know I won't be going to that reunion."

"Come on, man, It'll just be one night."

"Do I really have to go?"

"Yes, it'll be nice to see our former classmates." Asher recalled his great high school experience.

"Well, easy for you to say. High school was great for you. Me, not so much," Oliver grumbled, not really excited about the upcoming high school reunion.

"At least, it was great in your senior year- you've met this awesome dude." Asher boasted himself.

"Yeah it was," Oliver admitted. High school was never the best part of his life. It was full of trash dunk, wedgie-pole, cold slushies and homophobic slurs. The only thing that came out good of his entire high school experience was when he met the transfer student Asher Millstone.

First day of senior year, and the football jocks have already locked him up in the portable potty. It was Asher who helped him from being trapped. Ever since then, they were inseparable. They treat each other like they are brothers.

"And don't you want to see your first boyfriend again?" Asher teased him.

"Ughhh…"

"Don't ya miss him?"

"If we're going to talk about him, I need more than this," Oliver jiggled the empty glass on his friend's face, "Scotch please, I need something harder."

"That's my man!" Asher exclaimed and orders a drink for himself. Needless to say, no one was allowed to drive the car back to their apartment building.

It was already 1 am when they stopped drinking, and it took them another hour to become sober again by drinking lots of water and coffee.

They just exited the bar, Asher assisting Oliver to sit on the passenger's seat, but Oliver was still trying to convince Asher to just take a cab instead of driving home.

"Let's just take a cab, Ash."

"No worries. I got you," Asher assured. "I'm a better drinker than you are."

It's true that Oliver has low alcohol tolerance, but it's not enough reason for them not to be responsible drinkers.

"I'm sober enough to drive, dude." Asher assured him, and buckled Oliver's seatbelts. Oliver was too tired to argue with him, so he just nodded his head.

Asher then walked around the car to sit on the driver's seat. He positioned himself, double checked the mirrors, before starting the car. As Asher backs up the car from the parking lot, he noticed the look on Oliver's face, a look that clearly says IM-SORRY-IM-GOING-TO-RUIN-YOUR-CAR-WITH-MY-VOMIT.

"No, no, no, " Asher exclaimed and took Oliver's bag and handed it to him. "In here, in here," Asher exclaimed, and accidentally stepped on the gas pedal instead of the breaks.

*bump* with the *Blaggh*

Asher stopped the car immediately, when he felt the bump at the back of the car. Even Oliver, with his alcohol-induced mind, noticed it too. They both looked at the back of the car for any other cars or light post that might have caused it, but unfortunately for them, there was none. This only means one thing...

"Did you just…?"

"Did I just..,?

They asked simultaneously, but not looking at one another. They just sat there for another second before they hurriedly exited the car and sprinted over the back.

"Please be a cat, please be cat," Asher repeated, but his wish was not granted as there was a man who was lying on the concrete; wounded and unconscious.

"Asher," Oliver gasped, "It's the Greek god."

* * *

Summary: I don't know who I am or where I am. But there's only one thing I'm sure of, I'm supposed to be irresistibly and irrevocably in love with Oliver Hampton. Amnesia AU!

**STORY TITLE:**

**" IT WASN'T EXACTLY LEGAL " –** It is Canon-Connor's line on Season 1 Episode 1 – Pilot. It was his dialogue when Annalise asked him how he got the secretary's personal email. Well, we all know how he got it and that's how we started this ship. J

**Chapter Title:**

**"It's the Greek god"** Is what Oliver used to describe Connor (extraordinary beauty and charisma) since he still don't know the latter's name.

**Story Outline:**

-Character Study: Connor and Oliver's personality

-Connor and Laurel's conversation about the ongoing case

-Connor flying to Michigan

-Subtle stalker shots

-Oliver's tech support business

-Hangout with Asher

-Missed Encounter

**Scenes Included:**

-Connor's habits and mannerism (sweet-hater)

**Chapter Reference:**

-The first court scene is taken from Season 1 Chapter 12 "She's a Murderer"

-The micro-expression is from the series "Light To Me" Watch it! It's a great series too.

-Michigan is where Canon-Connor previously lived, but in this fic, Connor never lived there. I just needed a place that will still be connected with the series.

-Mrs. Goodwin is Jynnifer Goodwin who played Snow White in Once Upon a Time. And yes I'm also a fan of that show.

-Scandals is the bar Kurt, Blaine, Sebastian and Dave frequently went to.

-Another easter egg is the slushies from Glee.

**Correction:**

Guys, this is my first time to write a law-based fanfiction, so I'm not really used to the terms. Google was no help, or I wasn;t looking hard enough. Anyway, please PM me or like put on the comment section if I make a mistake. Like for example, I know it should not be the 'cross examiner' who was holding the bible to the witness and asked those questions. So if you know what they are called, please tell me, Thank you, I will really appreciate it.

**Follew me on my accounts:**

Twitter: Closetklaine

Tumblr: closetklaine27

Youtube: closet klaine

**Review to Encourage!**


	2. Only happen in the movies

**BETAE'D BY MOMO015!**

Hi guys!

How did you like the episode 2 of How to get away with Murder? It's full of angst, right? Don't know if I should laugh or cry or be grateful that their romance in the series is not boring.

I just can't phantom why Oliver would do that to Connor. But it was so funny when all of their friends accused him of cheating Oliver, when they found out that they broke up.

I hope you would like this new chapter.

**WARNING! READ WITH CAUTION!**

* * *

 

_"Every love story needs a catalyst of some sort."_

* * *

Oliver and Asher just sat there for another second before they hurriedly exited the car and sprinted over the back; hearts pounding in their rib cage.

"Please be a cat, please be cat," Asher chanted like a mantra, but his wish was not granted as there was an unconscious man lying under his car.

"Asher, it's the Greek god," Oliver gasped when he recognized that the wounded man was the stranger who caught him from his fall earlier.

"The Greek who?" Asher asked, seemingly not recognizing the man from before. "Is that… Is that blood?" Asher pointed at the blood dripping from the stranger's mouth.

And then fear began to seep inside them.

"Please tell me, I'm drunk and just hallucinating," Oliver pleaded; his eyes won't leave the Greek god's face.

"What do I do?" Asher asked as he ran to Oliver for answers. "Shit!" Asher shrieked from where he was standing, eyes not leaving the stranger. "Did I… did I kill him?" He asked panicking.

"hnggg…" Oliver replied instead, massaging the temple of his forehead.

"Oliver," Asher started in terror. "What should we do?"

"I don't know," Oliver answered him truthfully. "I'm not sober enough for this."

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Shut up!" Oliver shouted at the top of his lungs. "Just shut up. I need to think straight," he said in a much stricter voice.

"Well I DO!" Asher yelled at him, and shook his best friend's shoulder. He then ran back to the driver's seat, and grabbed the bottled water from his dashboard.

"Just… Just give me a second." Oliver cradled his head.

"Oliver stop being drunk!" Asher pleaded, and splashed his friend with the water.

"What the fuck!?" Oliver shrieked when the water hit his face.

"Are you sober enough?!"

Oliver ignored his friend, wiped his face with his own shirt, and breathed deeply. Trying to regain the hard reality of what they did.

_They're drunk. They hit a man. They'll go to jail._

"Fuck," Oliver mumbled to himself.

"Let's just leave him!" Asher, who was already envisioning himself in prison, suggested. "I'm not going to jail again, Oliver!"

"Just shut up!" Oliver said again, halting his best friend from doing anything stupid, his sober mind finally recognized the seriousness of what had happened. "You're not helping at all!"

"Well, I don't know what to do!"

"I'm going to see if he's still alive, okay?" Oliver answered him without glancing back at his friend, and knelt beside the stranger. "So calm down."

"Wait! Oliver!" Asher hastily reached for Oliver's hand before he can feel the lifeless body in front of them. "Are you sure about that?" Asher asked him, "we can just….I don't know... uhmm…" he couldn't say the words out loud, but he kept glancing back at the car, creating a vague sign at Oliver to just leave the man behind.

"Leave him?" Oliver said it out loud for him. "I honestly not sure with what I'm about to do here," he removed his hand from Asher's grip, "but I know that this is what your father would do," he continued, knowing full well how much Asher idolized his father who died in action by protecting an Iraqi boy that was caught in the middle of a gunfire.

Oliver then carefully approached the body, and breathed a sigh of relief when there was no puddle of blood surrounding it. He slowly stretched his hand under the man's jaw.

"What are you going to do to him?" Asher, who followed his friend's action by kneeling beside him.

"Fuck Asher! Stop doing that," Oliver shrieked, and slapped Asher's thigh. "I'm just checking his pulse."

Oliver carefully stretched his hand again. "But what if he is dead?" Asher whispered this time, but it made Oliver tenser.

"Asher!" Oliver shouted over his friend, and tried to calm his racing heart. "Just go inside the car. Your emotions are all over the place, "His order was firm, but Asher, curious as to what will happen, still stayed behind him.

Oliver continued checking the pulse again, and relief overshadowed him when the heart beat was normal.

"You know, I saw this once on TV, they're part of a syndicate," Asher mumbled dumbly, as he watched his best friend check the stranger for any blood or broken bones, "they just pretend that they are dead, but they are really alive and then the other members will jump out of the bushes and rob us."

"Can you please stop doing that!?" Oliver begged, "You're scaring the shit out of me."

"Sorry," Asher mumbled.

"And besides, his injury looks really bad. It's real."

"Just saying."

Oliver rolled his eyes before announcing, "He's alive; badly injured, yes. But not dead."

"Oh thank g-!" Asher breathed a sigh of relief, and stood up from his position. "I'm not a dead man."

"We have to call someone," Oliver said. "His parents or girlfriend, maybe?" He then patted the stranger's pockets for his phone or any id that would identify the unconscious man.

"No, wait!" Asher protested, but he had just been ignored by his friend.

"There's no phone or ID on him," Oliver concluded when he cautiously checked the stranger's pocket. "Who the hell is he?"

"I don't know," Asher answered the rhetorical question. "Oliver."

"There's no point in here," Oliver finally decided, choosing to ignore his friend. "Get him inside."

"Inside the trunk?" Asher asked dumbly.

"No! What?!" Oliver was already on the verge of irritation and panic. "We're not murderers! We have to get him to the hospital," he ordered while he carefully lifted the man's head.

"We can't," Asher answered almost immediately.

"What!?" Oliver stopped his action, and looked up at Asher.

"We can't go to the hospital," Asher started to pace the lot. "We can't report about this."

"Why not?" Oliver asked, and stood up to still Asher from his panic. "Asher come on, just help me with him."

"Can we just leave him here, and let the others find him and take him to the hospital?" Asher suggested.

"No, his condition might worsen if we waited too long," Oliver answered him. "Ash, let's help him. It's our fault."

"But I don't want to go to jail!"

"Ash…"

"I'm not Oliver! I'm not!"

"You're not—"

"Yes I am. This is DUI!" Asher yelled. "I have high alcohol tolerance, you know that, but they…" he looked at the unconscious man in front of him, he released a deep breathe, "They're going to ask what happened, and they'll know. They'll know that we've been drinking; that I'M DRUNK!"

"Asher…"

"Dead or not, they won't believe me when I say that I can still properly drive. I'm going to jail, Oliver." Asher sobbed uncontrollably. "It's scary there…" He whimpered.

"I know." Oliver gripped Asher's face with both of his hands. "Look at me, Ash."

When Asher did not obey, Oliver tightened the grip on his friend's face, forcing Asher to look at Oliver's eyes. "Look at me, and believe me when I say that you're not going to jail, okay? Not again. Not this time." The look of determination in Oliver’s eyes, made Asher believe him for now.

Asher nodded, tears falling from his eyes.

"Not again," Oliver said with finality.

"I believe you," Asher answered, trusting his friend to solve the mess they were in. "I don't want to go there, Oliver."

"Let's worry about that later, okay?" Oliver concluded. "But for now, we needed to save this man's life."

* * *

 

**_5 hours ago_ **

"Uh…gri...kyu." the stranger muttered, eyes blown wide.

"Excuse me?" Connor asked him.

"Ahh... Uhmmm..." the stranger continued to stutter, his hands were fidgeting on the sides, and his face had started to redden. "Yeah… Uhmmm.. Okay."

Connor scrunched his nose, trying to figure out what the other guy was trying to say. "Are you alright?"

"Oliver!" Another stranger shouted from the other side of the room, and strutted forward them. "It's time to release the Kraken!" the other man suddenly exclaimed, his tongue out as he humped the air.

"I'll just go," Connor excused himself from the odd pair and left the bar. He pulled out his phone to text Laurel about the lead he got from one of the locals when he was approached by a stranger.

"Hey! You looking to party?" the man, whose black hoodie and cap almost covered his face, asked as he crowd Connor at the side.

"No," Connor said immediately, and pocketed his phone. He started to walk, but the man blocked his pathway.

"This is Utopium," the man showed a 2-inch bottle with a clear liquid inside it. "It'll fry your brain, dip it in batter, and fry it again."

"Having my brain treated like a corndog." In the back of Connor's mind, he knew that he should have not responded like that. He should have been more polite. This is an unfamiliar territory; he doesn't know what kind of people lives here. "Not so tempting," he said lastly before side-stepping and briskly walked to the deserted parking lot.

Connor had already pulled out his keys, when the sketchy man from before caught up with him and shouted, "Come on man, $30 on your first try."

"Sorry man, I don't do drugs." Connor yelled without glancing back at the man, and unlocked the door of the rented car.

_*Bam!*_

And suddenly, his head was slammed against the roof of the car.

_*Bam!*_

And again,

_*Bam!*_

And then again.

"Ughh!" Connor grumbled as he unwillingly knelt to the ground. "Fuck."

The stranger then started kicking Connor's body.

Connor, who was too sore to get up and fight, just covered his head and body with his arms and legs. He knew that he wouldn't win this fight, as he was never good at sparring, and that the man beating him up was obviously strong and well-muscled.

"Stop! Stop!" Connor pleaded from the ground, "I'll give you anything you want!"

"You stuck up rich kids!" The man shouted in rage. "You think you're above everyone else, huh?"

"Stop!" Connor shouted. He should have shut his fucking mouth.

"Give me your wallet!" the stranger commanded, but continuously beat Connor up, "And your phone!"

"Here's my wallet!" Connor then tossed the wallet and iphone after he took it from the back pockets of his pants. "And my phone," he said, trembling.

"And your watch and ring!" the robber said when he saw Connor's shining jewelleries.

"I'll give you my watch," Connor started as he slowly unbuckled the silver Mont Blanc watch from his wrist, "but not the ring." The ring was very important to Connor. It was not because it's from his professor, but it was what his professor told him when he got it.

**_Flashback,_ **

_It was the time when they were working on a hard case and Connor suddenly shouted that he wanted to quit and left the office. Later that afternoon though; his professor asked him to see her in her study._

_"I didn't mean any of that." Connor said when he entered his professor's office._

_"Yes, you did." Annalise replied. "Say everything you want to say right to my face. I'm a bad person, heartless, a socio path. Is that about right?"_

_"You said that you'll help us," Connor said as he sat on the chair opposite Annalise's. "You only talked to us in code. You made us go to your class even though nothing makes sense anymore. I want to trust you that we'll become successful lawyers like you, but—_ _,”_

_"Do you know why I gave you the trophy the first day?" Annalise cut him off, hands folded under her chin. "Not because you screwed your way over; although, that's something I would have done back in my days, but because I saw you…someone like me. Someone so scared, that the only way they know how to handle things is by worrying through them."_

_Connor just stared at her dumbly._

_"That's what we are; worriers." Annalise continued when there was no comment from her student. "That's what makes us successful, but it also makes us very tired."_

_"I… I know."_

_"Here's the thing Mr. Walsh." She then took a ring box from her drawer, and slid it towards Connor. "I'm not making you to be like me. I want you to be better than me."_

_"What's this?" Connor asked when he saw a Golden ring with a Chinese character encrypted on top of it._

_"You." She answered vaguely._

**_End of Flashback_ **

Simply to say, Connor had not yet removed the jewelry from his middle finger since the day that Prof. Keating gave it to him.

"Not the ring, please," Connor pleaded once again.

"NO! Give me all of them!" The robber refused. He should have been satisfied with the items he already had. He knew how expensive these were, and he could even sell them at a higher price in shady street. However, seeing as the man refused to give him the ring, he thought that the value of it was much higher than the things he had now.

When Connor did nothing, the robber dropped the stolen items on the ground and tackled Connor so he could grab a hold of his right hand.

"NO!" Connor struggled, and with such determination, managed to kick off the man on top of him.

The stranger then stretched his arm to feel any tangible object to use as a weapon. He found a rock as big as his hand, grabbed it firmly and slammed it to the back of Connor's head, making Connor to instantly lose his conscious.

The robber was shocked by his own drunken action, but it didn't deter him from getting the things he wanted. He struggled to remove the ring from the unconscious man's middle finger since it was a little bit tight, but with another stronger tug, he managed to take it away.

He rolled the unconscious man to the edge of the lot until he was covered by the bushes, and then run back to grab the other stolen items from the ground. He got inside Connor's car, and started driving away; leaving the unconscious man behind.

* * *

 

**_Present Time_ **

"Help!" Oliver shouted as he got out from the car, and opened the back passenger's seat. "Someone help us please!"

At once, three medics who were wheeling a hospital bed run to him.

"What happened?" a brusque man asked, but it didn't stop him from putting the foldable bed under the unconscious man.

"I don't know," Oliver lied.

"We need Dr. Meggy in ER!" another man, who was inspecting the body on the other side of the car, said to the intercom pinned to his shoulder. "Possible concussion. Heavy bruising."

"Will he be okay?" Asher asked sincerely after the medics had successfully transported the man from their car to the hospital bed.

"Please sir, let me do my job," one of the medics replied like he had done it numerous times before. It wasn't even the question that was asked.

Asher and Oliver remained standing at the Emergency room's entrance, overwhelmed as they watch the man that they hit be rolled inside the hospital.

"We can't go yet."

"I need to see him alive,” the pair said simultaneously.

Asher and Oliver had the option to just drop the man in the ER, and leave, but their conscience is not letting them leave. They needed to be assured that the Greek god was alive.

Oliver smiled, a little bit forced but a smile nevertheless. His best friend was back. He knew that the Asher who was suggesting that the man should be left behind was not the friend that he grew up with. He knew Asher was just scared and shocked by the event, that's why he suggested doing those things.

"Okay," Oliver nodded. "Let's wait inside."

Oliver helped Asher be seated at the waiting area. "Let's rest first," he instructed and let Asher bowed his head and hugged his knees.

A nurse, dressed in blue scrubs, walked to them with a clipboard in hand. "Excuse me, sir? I need you to fill up this form." The nurse asked politely as she hand Oliver the clipboard.

Oliver took it, and was overwhelmed by the needed information since he doesn't know a thing about the man they just brought in.

_Name._

_Address._

_Birthdate._

_Status._

_Nationality._

_Allergies._

"Uh… I…" Oliver started, standing up, so he could talk to the nurse properly. "Is it really necessary to fill this up?"

"Are you not related to him?" The nurse asked sincerely, no judgment on her eyes; just plain curiosity.

Oliver gave an awkward laugh. "The thing is…"  _'We were drunk, and we hit him. So if you could possibly not report that to your boss, and send us to jail. Then yes, I'll admit that I don't know him.'_

"Asher?" Thankfully Oliver was saved from his confession when Asher's friend, who was wearing the same scrubs as the nurse in front of her, ran up to them.

"Michaela?" Asher asked as he lifted his head, and saw his girlfriend running to him. Asher then run up to her, and hugged her tightly.

"Ash…" Michaela was surprised by her boyfriend's sudden affection, but she still hugged him as possible as she could since her arms were trapped by Asher's body. "Baby, tell me what happened?"

Asher only shook his head, hugged her tighter, and sobbed on her shoulder.

"Hi…" Oliver interrupted the couple. "I'm really sorry to bother, and it's kind of a wrong timing to introduce myself in this situation, but I'm Oliver; Asher's best friend."

"Oh… Oliver," Michaela recognized the man from Asher's phone gallery. "Uhmmm… I would have shaken your hand right now, but…" she then directed her eyes at her boyfriend who was still clinging to her.

"It's okay," Oliver replied, standing there awkwardly between the couple and the nurse who had asked him to fill the form earlier. "So… uhmmm…"

"What happened?" Michaela asked Oliver, realizing that Asher can't answer her questions at the moment. "What did the doctor say to him? Will he be okay?"

"Uhmmm…. About him?" Oliver pointed at the operation's room door with his thumb. "We don't know yet. They literally just wheeled him inside."

Seemingly confused by Oliver's answer, Michaela asked again, "No, I mean with…"

"Mikki," Asher mumbled. "I'm tired."

"Shhh…." Michaela smiled at him. She said to Asher that she hated that name, but Asher knew that she secretly likes it. "It's okay, baby." She rubbed Asher's back for comfort.

"Oliver, uhmmm…" Michaela started. "Is it okay if I take Asher for a while? I have a spare bed in my office. I'll just let him rest a bit."

"Oh, sure, sure." Oliver nodded enthusiastically. "Go ahead. He needed a bit of rest."

"I would have offered you, but I'm only a senior nurse here. My office is really not that big," Michaela explained politely.

"Oh no," Oliver assured him. "I'll be fine, and besides I needed to be here. So please, take care of Asher."

Michaela nodded before turning towards the nurse who was silent throughout the conversation. "Nurse Becca, I'll take their case. No need to bother them. I'll handle it from here."

"Yes ma'am," The nurse answered and left at once.

"Thank you," Oliver said, not because Michaela took their case, but because she inadvertently helped him not explain the accident to the nurse before.

"You're welcome," Michaela replied, and dragged Asher to her office. "Let's go to my office, baby."

Oliver stayed behind, and waited for the operation to finish. It took 2 hours for the emergency doors to open again, and Oliver breathed a sigh of relief when the unconscious man was ushered outside with a heart rate monitor.

_*thump thump*_

_"thump thump*_

_'He's alive!_ ' Oliver's mind celebrated. He would have followed the Greek god to the other room, but the doctor who led the operation halted him.

"Excuse me?" The doctor started, "Are you with him?"

"I supposed," Oliver slipped, but when the doctor looked at him intently, he properly asked him. "Yes, I'm with him. Is something wrong with him?"

"I'm Dr. Meggy," the doctor introduced herself. She offered her gloveless hand for Oliver to shake.

"Oliver Hampton," the man with the coke-bottled glasses supplied as he shook the doctor's hand.

"Nothing is wrong, hopefully," the doctor said, which is really not reassuring for Oliver. "He's stable. He only has a mild injury at his finger and elbow, but his head suffered the most. He has bruising on his forehead, and strain at the back of his head," she explained in a manner that he would understand. "But he'll live. We just needed to follow up with a few more tests."

"Oh, thank you, doctor!"

"But Mr. Hampton," the doctor said, and Oliver doesn't like that kind of tone she sinuated, "the next 24 hours will be crucial. If he doesn't wake up within this time period, he might… go into a coma."

"A coma?!" Oliver asked in surprised.

"Yes, so he needs to wake up or he might not be able to wake up for a very very long time."

"I… Uh…"

"yes?"

"How long will that take? The coma, I mean."

"I really can't know for sure. They are lucky patients who were only in a coma for two days, but some takes months or years. But there are some who never wakes up."

"Wow. I.. ahhh.." Oliver can't even form a proper response.

"I'm sorry, but how are you related with the patient?" The doctor asked, but even before Oliver can answer, the doctor's page ping. "I apologize but I have to go. There's another accident."

Oliver knew that he should not be grateful that there was another accident, but he can't stop feeling relieved that he was once again saved from confessing their crimes. He then went to the information desk and asked the nurse what room they put the patient from earlier.

Oliver went inside Room 303, closed the door, and sat on the stool which is beside the unconscious man's bed. Even with his head bandage, and there were bruises on his face and body, he was still beautiful in Oliver's eyes.

"Hi, sleeping beauty," Oliver smiled. He carefully took the man's hand that wasn't injected by the the IV needle. "Do you remember me?"

No answer, not even a movement; just the predicted breathing of the sleeping man on the bed.

"I was from the bar earlier. I was with my friend, Asher. I guess... I just want to say sorry about this. We really didn't mean to hurt you." He breathed for a second before continuing.

"I don't even know if what they say in the movies is true, that you can still hear me even if you're unconscious. But I really want you to wake up. Call me selfish, but I just can't have another man's blood on my hands," Oliver confessed. He closed his eyes, gripped the hand tighter, and held it to his face. "Please, wake up, please." He repeated over and over again.

Oliver just stared at the sleeping beauty for a really long time

"I just wished we could have met differently. Maybe I'll be the dorky IT guy who obviously fell in love with you, and then you'll be the strict boss who hates everyone, but then you'll see my innocent heart, and also falls in love with me. We'll do the American dream, with white picket fence, two children; surrogates of course, and one bull dog. How great will that be?"

Oliver sighed helplessly. It was not really a good time to daydream over the man that they hit or to day dream about a stranger at all. He then let go of the man's hand, and went to the couch to get some sleep.

Oliver doesn't know how long was he sleeping, but he was suddenly awoken by the rapid beeping of the heart monitor. He immediately stood up, and ran out from the room yelling. "Help! Doctor help please!"

When the nurses heard his panicked voice, they immediately went to the room, and kicked Oliver out.

"Sir, please wait outside," the nurse said before closing the door, and Oliver obeyed. Oliver didn't even bother stopping Dr. Meggy from going inside the room. He knew that the sleeping beauty needs all the help he can get, and his hysteric would just distract the team working on the patient.

That's the longest 20 minutes of Oliver's life, and then the nurses came out from the room. The last told him that he can go inside the room.

"He's awake," the nurse smiled as she wiped the sweat on her forehead with her arm. "You can go inside now."

"I can?" Oliver asked curiously, since Dr. Meggy still did not come out from the room. He silently went inside the room, but stayed at the entrance, just observing Dr. Meggy as he asked questions at the now conscious patient.

"Hi," The doctor greeted the patient sweetly, careful as to not startle him. "I'm Meggy. I'm your doctor."

"Hi," Sleeping beauty—not sleeping anymore, apparently— answered. He was sitting on the hospital bed, eyes focused on the doctor, not even noticing that Oliver had come in.

"I will ask you questions, okay?" The doctor said while writing on her clipboard. "Just answer me, as honest as possible."

Greek god nodded mutely.

"Do you know why you are here?"

"Ughhh… No."

"You don't remember how you got those bruises?"

The Greek god looked at his wounded arm and shook his head.

"Think carefully, okay? You really don't remember?" The doctor persuaded.

The Greek god closed his eyes for a second, tried to remember what had happened, but it was all blank. "I… I don't."

"How about him?" the doctor pointed at Oliver who was shell shocked when the doctor pointed at him. "Do you remember that man?"

The Greek god finally noticed the other man who was standing at the door. He looked at Oliver like he could provide him the answer, but still nothing. "Am I supposed to?"

Oliver doesn't know if he should be grateful or not that the Greek god doesn't remember him. He always has an average face, of course he was not to be remembered. Oliver doesn't even know why he was still here. He and Asher could have been on the run the moment he realized that the Greek god is not in prominent danger anymore.

"Okay, thank you." The doctor smiled at him, but continued with her questions. "Let's move to simpler questions. Will that be okay?"

"Yes."

"What was the last time you ate?" The doctor asked.

 _'What's the point of asking those questions?'_ Oliver thought to himself.

"I… I don't know." The Greek god answered, and only Oliver was shocked from his answer.

"It's okay that you don't remember," the doctor assured the patient, when she saw that he is starting to panic. "Do you want to stop?"

"No, please. I need to… I need to know something," the patient pleaded, and the doctor fully understood what he was going through.

"Okay, then how about your birthday? Do you know your birthdate?"

The patient shook his head.

"Is he?" Oliver can't help but ask loudly. He then put his hand over his mouth as to not disturb them again.

"One last question, okay?" She asked first, but all three occupants of the room knew what the answer would be even before the doctor asked the question. "Can you tell me what your name is?"

"I…My…" The patient started, closing his eyes, and scrunching his nose to focus. Nothing came to his mind. "I'm sorry… I can't."

"It's okay," the doctor assured her, and pressed the switch on the IV to sedate the patient. She can't let him do a meltdown. It will not be good for his current state of mind. "Sleep now, okay. We'll talk later."

The drug worked fast. Greek god was already asleep before he can react and fully realized what had happened to his memories.

"Let's talk in my office," Dr. Meggy said to Oliver, and Oliver followed her, wanting to know what had happened to his sleeping beauty.

Once inside the office, Dr. Meggy directed him at the x-ray skull inserted on the z-ray viewer. "You see this?" She pointed at the lower right of the sheet. "These are the frontal and temporal lobes. These are parts of the brain stem that control alertness, it is also involved with memory: drugs, alcohol, stress, HEAD TRAUMA," she emphasized the last word, "infection, and strokes can all cause injury to the brain. When any one of these areas of the brain suffers damage, the result could potentially be amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Oliver asked dumbly. "Does that only happen in the movies?"

"You'll be surprised Mr. Hampton how often we got cases like that." The doctor snickered, and sat on her office chair, gesturing for Oliver to do the same.

"Amnesia means that he forgot everything, right?" Oliver asked.

"Not all amnesia is like that." The doctor started to explain. "There are cases that the patient's memories were erased for just a couple of years, some even degrade to their toddler years. Have you watched the Drew Barrymore movie 50 first dates?"

"Yes."

"That's a real illness. It's called Anterograde Amnesia, Drew's character can't form any new memories anymore."

Oliver nodded, trying to understand this new information.

"But in this case, it's post-traumatic Amnesia, which was caused by the head injury. He can't recall any memories. Simply say, his head is like a balloon."

"So he doesn't remember anything? Not from last night or from his whole life?" Oliver astonished of what the doctor had told him.

"Yes, that's why he'll need more support from his partner." The doctor said, "Will you be able to do that, Mr. Hampton?"

"Yes of course," Oliver answered without even thinking. "Wait what!?" he said after a second, when he realized what the doctor had implied.

"You'll need a lot of patient to take care of your partner," The doctor rephrased, he looked at him skeptically. "Aside from the medication he'll get from us. He'll need more emotional support from you."

"I'm sorry, you said what?"

"You're his partner, right? I overheard you talking to him about the American dream family…"

When Oliver just stared at her shell shock, she quickly dismissed her previous statement. "Oh! I'm sorry. I just assumed—"

_'Think fast, Oliver. Think fast!'_

"No, you're correct," Oliver lied. "I'm his husband."

* * *

 

 **Chapter Title** : Only happens in the Movies – Oliver’s question referring to Connor’s amnesia.

**Story Outline:**

\- Rushed to the Emergency Room

\- Amnesia Connor

\- Doubting staff

**Scenes Included:**

\- Connor forgets his identity

\- Oliver is his fake husband

**Chapter Reference:**

\- the drug dealer scene was from izombie when main antagonist offers the protagonist the drug, Utopia.

-Room 303 is Oliver;s apartment number.

-Dr. Meggy – Season 3 episode 4, she was the doctor assigned to Laurel.

-flashback from theirng is the tense scene of Annalise and Connor In episode 1x12

-time table is just like what they do in HTGAWM

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	3. to infinity and beyond.

**BETAE'D BY MOMO015!**

Hi guys! How are you?

I really hope you would really like this chapter. I'm sorry for the late upload. I actually finished chapter four before I finished chapter three. But YOU STIL HAVE TO WAIT FOR ANOTHER WEEK FOR CHAPTER FOUR. 

* * *

 

_"Sometimes, you will never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory."_

* * *

"You're his partner, right? I overheard you talking to him about the American dream …" When Oliver just stared at her shell shock, she quickly dismissed her previous statement. "Oh! I'm sorry. I just assumed—"

"No, you're correct," Oliver lied smoothly. "I'm his husband. Out of curiosity, how much of it did you hear?"

"Just about starting a family with him," the doctor replied skeptically, twisting her neck on the side as he eyed the man in front of her.

"Ah… I was just embarrassed that you heard me talking about that to him." He said with fake relief, gently touching his chest with his left hand to emphasize his reaction.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about." The doctor smiled. "So as I was saying, Mr. Hampton. I know that this… this thing that happened to your husband is hard to digest, but you need to be stronger not just for your husband, but also for you."

"I.. Uhhh…" Oliver stared at her dumbly.

"Having amnesia is not retrograding to being a child. He knows the general concept of things," The doctor emphasized. "He still have a knowledge of general information, a meaning of a particular thing... that kind of stuff." When Oliver continued to stare at her dumbly she continued her explanation. "Like love; he knows what love is. He just didn't have the memories how he learned it. He may not have the memory, but he knows what it is."

"Will he still get his memories back?"

"I cannot guarantee anything," The doctor clarified. "Right now, his head is blank. Pure pitch black blank."

"What can I do to help him?" Oliver asked nervously, hands unconsciously readjusting his coke-bottled glasses.

"He doesn't remember you, your marriage, his family or even himself. He doesn't even remember his own name. You have to be really patient with him as he tries to remember his past life." she replied truthfully. "And that's where he needed most of your help. You'll be his memory. You need to show him anything that might help him trigger his memories; like pictures, or places he usually go to. You show him the things he usually do, his habits, his job. The things he likes and doesn't like."

"Oh," Oliver replied, eyes- wide. He doesn't have any picture of him together or knows any of his habits. The man was a complete stranger to him, other than his god-like looks.

"It can even be as simple as the coffee cup he usually used. Memories can trigger by any of the senses; may it be the hearing, sight, smell or taste."

"Ohhh…."

"Yes, and sometimes, even strong familiar emotions can help him recall."

"Is he able to—"

"No sex yet." The doctor interrupted.

"—eat anything?" Oliver finished lamely. "Uhmmm.. uh…" He stared at her dumbly, biting his lips as his face had started to redden.

"Sorry, I just assumed again." Dr. Meggy expressed as she covered her mouth to laugh a little. "I apologize. I just assumed that that would be your question, but since we're already on that topic no sex for now. He still cannot do any strenuous activity. So I highly suggest to not do anything that will physically exhaust him."

Oliver shifted on his seat feeling uncomfortable with the topic. "Duly noted."  _'Of course, I won't have sex with him. He's not my real husband, no matter how gorgeous he is,"_  his mind supplied.

"And to answer your question," the doctor continued. "Yes, he can definitely eat anything. I highly suggest food that is rich with anti-oxidants." The doctor then faced her computer to start typing. "Just give me a minute, okay? I'll give you the list of the food he should eat."

"Okay," Oliver nodded, and awkwardly looked around the office as he waits for the doctor to finish.

"Any food allergies?" Dr. Meggy asked without glancing at Oliver.

"Uhmmm…I'm allergic to nuts." Oliver supplied.

"I mean your husband's, Mr. Hampton," she smiled at him.

"Oh," Oliver laughed at his own dumb answer. "Uh… no, not that I think of."

The doctor nodded and quickly typed again on her computer. She then printed the list to her prescription paper, and gave it to Oliver.

"Okay, so this is the food that he needs to intake, and this is the medicine he needs to drink. One pill every 8 hours for 2 weeks."

"Okay, thank you for this," Oliver waived him the piece of paper, and stood up from the seat.

"You're welcome." She smiled. "And Mr. Hampton, don't force him to remember. If he is too tired, it's best that you let him rest. You can't stress him out."

"Yes doc," Oliver answered simply. "Uhmmm… One last question, though?" He asked for permission as he hover at the office's door

"Sure."

"Is there a possibility that he might never remember who he is?"

The smile on the doctor fell as she answer Oliver. "Yes. It's possible."

* * *

 

"What do you mean you’re married?" Asher shouted at his best friend, when the latter dragged him inside Michaela's office and announced his sudden nuptial.

"Shhh… Not so loud," Oliver reprimanded his best friend, and closed the door behind him. "Where's Michaela's laptop?"

"What the hell!?" Asher stared at him incredulously, but his best friend just rushed towards Michaela's desk to access her computer. "That's lock, you can't—"

"You were saying?" Oliver raised an eyebrow at him when he showed Asher that he was able to log in to Michaela's computer without even breaking a sweat.

"Dare I even warn," Asher mumbled to himself, crossed his arms, and stood patiently for Oliver to explain to him when the fuck he got married. "What do you mean you are married?" Asher repeated his question when Oliver ignored his presence and when Oliver still won't answer him, he strutted towards the table and reached the monitor to close it.

"Hey!" The hacker protested.

"Answer me Oliver Hampton!" Asher demanded.

"As in I am married," Oliver replied like it was supposed to be obvious. "How am I not clear on that?"

"Oliver, I am serious!"

Oliver sighed, and finally looked at his best friend. "Well there is something wrong with the frontal and temporal lobe of his brain caused by the trauma in—"

"English, please."

"Greek god lost his memories, and I had to pretend to be his husband," Oliver clarified for him in one breath, and continued typing on the computer.

"What do you mean he lost his memories?"

"Amnesia," he simply answered.

"Amnesia?" Asher asked surprised was clearly showing in his eyes. "Like Long Kiss Goodnight amnesia or like The Vow amnesia?"

"Long Kiss," Oliver answered immediately as he fairly knew the difference between the two movies.

"Wait, so he doesn't remember anything?" Asher continued to ask. "Like what happened last night or how we hit him?" he whispered the last question; a bit paranoid that someone was listening to the their conversation.

"He doesn't even remember his name," Oliver added.

"So he has amnesia," Asher clarified as he sat on the empty sofa bed, trying to get a hold of what had Oliver just said. "But how are you being married to him connected to this?

"Dr. Meggy thought that I was his 'PARTNER'," Oliver emphasized the word by twitching his fingers above his head. "So I just agreed with her, and told her that I am his husband. It was the perfect alibi for us. We can just tell them that it was a stupid couple fight."

"Okay, that can be possible," Asher slowly contemplated, "But isn't it better for us to just say that we found him somewhere, and being the good citizens that we are, brought him to the hospital?"

"Because…" Oliver started to explain, but he can't think of a good explanation. He suddenly stopped typing, and looked at Asher. "I… I didn't think of that."

"Oliver!" Asher didn't mean to raise his voice, but he did.

"Shit," Oliver murmured to himself as he stood up and pressed his fingers on either side of his temple. "Why am I so fucking stupid?"

"Hey, hey, hey, you're not." Asher immediately ran to his friend. Knowing his best friend, Oliver will just berate himself for doing that. "I'm sorry I raised my voice, and I'm sure you were just overwhelmed with all the information that the doctor gave you, and you got carried away."

"I panic..." Oliver still tried to explain. "She was telling me all this memory shit, and I just said yes. I just—"

"I will be doing the same thing if I were you, so don't blame yourself." Asher lied; he would have never thought of being married to the stranger since he was not his type at all, but he had to say that, so Oliver won't blame himself for what had happened. "It's really okay, Oliver," Asher assured him once more. "You only did what you had to do. It's okay. You don't have to explain. We won't actually be in this situation if I had not hit him with my car. It's not your fault; you're just trying to help me."

"It's my fault too." Oliver shook his head. "If I had not drunk too much, I wouldn't have distracted you from your driving making you hit that guy."

"But I was the one who insisted to drive home," Asher blamed himself. "Even when you clearly told me numerous time to just take a cab."

"But still—"

"Are we just going to spend the whole time blaming ourselves?" Asher cut him off. "Come on where's my genius friend who calmed me down."

"Sorry," Oliver smiled and went back to the computer to continue typing. "I kind of needed that brief moment to freak out."

"You have every right to."

Oliver then closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. "Five seconds of freaking out is over."

"So what's the plan, genius?" Asher laughed as he sat on the desk. "You're married to the Greek god and—"

"To Patrick actually," Oliver supplied. "That's his new name."

"Okay, you're married to Patrick," Asher tried once more. "So what do we do?"

"We had to help him get his memories back," Oliver answered still typing on the Michaela's computer.

"Isn't that what the opposite of what we should do?" Asher asked sincerely, not really understanding his best friend's endgame "If we help him get his memories, then he'll remember that we hit him, right?"

"We were kind of panicking earlier," Oliver replied without glancing back at Asher too busy typing. "But have you not noticed that he doesn't have any id or phone with him?"

"So?"

"In this time, who would go out without their phones?" Oliver asked rhetorically. When Asher shook his head, Oliver smiled. "Precisely. Something must have happened to him before we hit him with your car."

"Then why can't we do that right now?"

"And who pray tell will believe us?" Oliver questioned him. "No one was there, we don't even know what really happened. It's all a speculation. We need him to remember, so that we can clean our names."

"Okay, fine, you have a point but… uhmmm… You know that I love you man," Asher said first while scratching the back of his neck.

"I love you too," Oliver replied carelessly, and Asher smiled.

"No offense, but how did you even know that he is gay?"

"I don't." Oliver contemplated as he erased the data login in Michaela's computer, so that no one can ever know that he had used it.

"But what if he recovered his memories and he was actually a homophobe, it will do us worse."

"Well, we met at Scandals, which as you said is a gay bar, so we have a 50% chance that he is in fact gay. But if he is not, then we'll just have to treat him better so that when he recovered his memories, he will feel gratitude rather than anger to us. Regarding the homophobe part… I actually don't know. I just hope he isn't." He closed the monitor, and stood up from the seat.

"Are you not scared of letting a complete stranger inside your house, feeding him and sleeping in the same room?" Asher asked, afraid for his friend's safety.

"Of course I am."

"He can be a serial killer or a terrorist?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ash." Oliver rolled his eyes, and walked towards the door. "We're too average to have that kind of excitement in our lives."

"Oliver wait!" Asher grabbed his arm, and hugged his friend tightly. "I… Thank you. You don't have to do this, but you still did."

"You would have done the same," Oliver shrugged, and hugged him back. "You actually did it for me before, why won't I do it for you now?"

"Asher," Michaela interrupted the boys’ moment as she entered her own office. "Oh, am I interrupting something?" She teased. Michaela already knew the depth of their friendship. She didn't feel insecure to see them in that situation; she actually felt envious that Asher had that kind of family-bond with Oliver.

The boys both laughed at her, and parted. Asher then walked to his girlfriend and kissed her on the right cheek. "I was just comforting Oliver about his husband."

"Oh you were married!?" Michaela asked in surprised. "Asher didn't tell me."

"It wasn't my life to tell," Asher lied. Michaela knew everything about Oliver except for this one bit since they just recently made it up.

She nodded in understanding. "Wait!" Michaela shouted. "The guy you brought in, that's your husband, the one with the amnesia?"

"Yes." Oliver nodded with lips clasped together, "How did you know?"

"News travel fast here," Michaela simply explained, and rushed forward to her boyfriend's best friend to give him a hug. "Oh my god! Are you okay Oliver? I can't even imagine what you're going through."

"Thank you," Oliver awkwardly hugged her back and patted her back. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm getting there." He mouthed a help to his best friend, but Asher just shrugged back.

"But I still don't get it," Michaela expressed when she finally parted their bodies, "if you were the husband then why was Asher the one who's having a breakdown last—"

"It's complicated." Oliver cut her off. "We have a very complicated relationship, and Asher was blaming himself for accidentally hitting him last night when I'm trying to get away from him."

"Hmmm… but—"

This time it was Asher who cut her off. "Let's not ponder on that, babe. Oliver," He pushed his friend forward the exit. "wants to see his husband. See you later, bye. Love you." He then kissed her cheeks, leaving a wide-eyed Michaela alone.

"Love you too," Michaela mumbled for the first time, staring dumbly at the door. It was their first time to say those words to each other; it might be rushed and sounded insincere, but for Michaela it was sweetest thing she had ever heard.

* * *

 

"Knock knock." Oliver greeted to announce their presence. "Hi," Oliver gently smiled at the patient, who despite the injuries he incurred, still looks good with the plain hospital gown.

"Oh Mr. Hampton, you're here." Dr. Meggy smiled at the new participants of the group. "You're just in time. I'm almost over," she said and gave the patient a few more pointers before excusing herself out.

"I also told him that you were the husband," Meggy whispered to him. "I thought that it will soften the blow if I was the one who told him."

"Oh, uhmm… thank you?" Oliver's gratitude came out as a question. He wasn't sure if he should be irritated by the doctor's presumptuous attitude or be grateful for her because he didn't have to do the awkward meet-and-greet.

"You're welcome," she giddily replied and went on her merry way.

"She's too…" Asher had a hard time describing her. "Energetic for a doctor," he settled for a much safer word.

All three of them were standing awkwardly inside the spacious room, until Connor asked a question. "Who's Oliver?" He asked as he glanced between the two.

 _'_ "That would be me," Oliver raised his hand, "I'm Oliver. Uhmmm… I'm…" He coughed awkwardly.

"My husband," Connor finished for him. "I thought as much," he nodded and the uncomfortable silence continued.

 _'This is harder than blind dating,'_  Oliver mind supplied. "So what else did Dr. Meggy tell you?" trying, but failing to decapitate the awkwardness between them.

"Dr. Meggy told me that because of the hit at the back of my head," Connor started while trying to reach for that particular wound.

When Oliver saw his fake husband struggling to find that particular wound on the back of his head, he walked closer to him, and carefully guided his husband's right hand to that particular wound.

"Do you feel it?" Oliver asked as he let his fake husband gently touch that fresh wound on his head.

"This part of my brain was heavily wounded causing me to lose some… I mean all," Connor corrected himself, "of my memories."

Oliver then realized how close he had come with the patient, and retracted his hand. He stepped backwards until he was beside Asher again.

"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked; trying to rid of the guilt and sympathy for the patient.

"I honestly don't know what to feel right now," Connor said murmured. "I mean I can't do anything else, right? I just have to accept it."

"I… Uh…" Both Asher and Oliver was surprised by his dismissive response, but they were not stupid. They knew it was just the patient's defense mechanism.

"Can you tell me something about me, like what a normal person should know about himself?" Connor asked as he fiddled with the hospital's blanket

"Well," Oliver coughed. "Your name is Patrick Hampton, we've been married for a year now. We lived in Michigan, and that you were born May 27. You're also the same age as I am, 25."

"What else?"

"There are so many things to say," Oliver lied because he really can't think of any other information to tell him. "Why don't we do it the other way? You ask me questions, and I'll answer you, okay?"

Connor nodded.

"But I deserve not to answer some of them, especially if I know that it will just stress you out, okay?" Oliver clarified.  _'More of, I won't answer it if I can't think of a good lie.'_

"Sounds fair." Connor agreed "Where are my parents?" The patient asked curiously, but it literally took 10 seconds before he got a confusing answer.

"Adopted,"

"Runaway," Oliver and Asher simultaneously said, and looked at each other when they said something different. Oliver elbowed him subtly. "We needed to lie better. We sucked at this" Oliver whispered before sitting on the foot of the bed, and intently looked at his fake husband.

"Uhmm.. What we mean to say is that when you found out that you are adopted, you run away and didn't contact them for a long time."

"So I'm a bad son?" The patient asked. "I mean, even if I'm rebellious and adopted they could've visited me when I got into accident, right?"

"They died," Asher lied immediately, trying to help Oliver with the story of Patrick's non-existent family.

"Oh. I… I just thought they were still alive."

"YOU were a good son, Pat." Oliver assured him. "You had your moments, but you eventually realized that they were still the parents who raised you and loved you with all their heart." Oliver genuinely smiled. "They even attended our wedding, your mom was crying so much."

"How did they…?" Connor didn't finish the question, hoping that Oliver will be able to get what he was referring to.

"Car accident," Oliver smiled sadly. "I'll tell you next time, okay?"

"Then what happened to me?" The patient asked tentatively his next question. "How did the accident happened?"

"I don't think you're ready for this," Oliver answered, and was looking at Asher for some help.

"I deserve to know what happened to him," Connor firmly but quietly expressed.

"Fine," Oliver relented. "We were fighting at that time, Asher was helping me with my things. I needed some ' _space'_ , but as we about to drive off, you blocked the car and we accidentally hit you. You were knocked out when you hit your head on the curb," Oliver told him the same explanation that he told the doctors and nurses earlier.

"What are we fighting about?"

"Just something… stupid," Oliver replied vaguely, "and insignificant."

"So I—"

"I think this is enough information for you." Asher cut him off. "Dr. Meggy told us that you can be discharged tomorrow morning," he announced with great fake enthusiasm.

"Okay," Connor then scooted in a lying position, and turned his back from the pair.

Oliver understood the feeling of not knowing, but he still chose to continue with the lie since this is the only way he can save their asses. He stood up from his position. "We'll leave you from now, but if ever you needed something, just call the nurse and—"

"Oliver," Connor abruptly sat up and grabbed his husband's elbow before the latter can do another step. "Can you… can you stay please?" He asked shyly. "I'm... I'm scared."

"Scared of what, hon?" Oliver asked, surprising himself at the pet name he used, and sat down on the vacant stool beside the bed.

"That I might forget you again."

"Asher, can you please?" Oliver asked without removing his gaze from his fake husband, and his best friend already knew what he was asking for.

"Sure, I'll take care of the rest." Asher nodded and walked out from the room to help Oliver with the discharged papers.

"It's okay," Oliver held Connor's hand tighter, and gave it a tentative kiss. "I'll be here."

Connor smiled, and closed his eyes to rest. With everything's that had happened to him, he just needed something to ground him because he felt like floating inside the blank vastness of his mind, and Oliver, his husband, was that anchor that he needed, "Thank you," he murmured before finally falling asleep.

* * *

 

"Where's Asher?" Oliver asked himself when Asher had still not come back from his earlier errand. Asher was only supposed to take care of the bills and to run home to get some fresh clothes, but it had already been 5 hours, and he still haven't heard from his friend.

Oliver carefully stood up, cracked his fingers and back bones to relief the light soreness for sitting at the same position. He silently exited the room as to not wake up the sleeping beauty. He was going to look for Asher in Michaela's office, but was surprised to see Asher, Michaela and Nate, Asher's police officer, huddled in a corner.

"Why is your parole officer doing here?" Oliver whispered in Asher's left ear when he approached the small group.

"I forgot," Asher mentally cursed. "I was supposed to meet him for our weekly check-ups," he explained as he air-quoted the last word. "Oliver, can you please explain to the nice officer here what had happened. He was claiming that I had something to do with the accident."

"I did not insinuate anything, Ash," Nate defended himself. "I am merely asking all the facts about this incident since your name got involved, and I am expected to report everything you did during your parole."

"I'm sorry officer," Oliver intervened. "There might have been a slight misunderstanding here. There is no crime to report since Asher and I knew the patient really well. We had just been in an unfortunate accident, and Asher being the good friend that he is," Oliver emphasized, "accompanied me so I can take care of my husband."

"You were his husband?" The parole officer asked skeptically while pointing at the general direction where Patrick was staying.

"Yes sir," Oliver replied with deceptive confidence.

"Can I see your wallet?" Nate politely asked.

A little bit confused by what the officer would do with his wallet, Oliver still obliged. He watched as the officer looked inside his wallet, and then gave it back to him immediately.

"What were you searching for?" Oliver asked as he put his wallet to the back pocket of his pants.

"You know most married couple would carry a picture of their spouses inside their wallet."

"Well, I'm not most couples," Oliver defended, as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Point taken," the officer nodded. "But why don't I see any wedding ring on your finger?"

"I… uh…" Oliver fiddled with his left ring finger. "I threw it away."

"Threw it away," Officer Lahey repeated as he looked at Oliver and Asher with judgment. "No ring, no pictures… hmmnn…"

"It's because he cheated on me!" Oliver exclaimed, surprising the other three due to the sudden loudness of his voice. "I burnt everything that reminds me of him! I can't show you any pictures or stupid mementos that we have been together because I burned all of them. He is as good as dead to me!"

"Dead to you?"

"And I dare you to use that against me!" Oliver challenged the man. "I don't want this to happen to him. It was an accident. He just popped out from nowhere, blocked the car, and we accidentally hit him with the car."

"Oliver calm down," Michaela tried to restrain his boyfriend's best friend, surprised by the sudden burst of emotion. "We believe you. He just needed an explanation from you."

"Then come on, do your job," Oliver encouraged the officer. "Search for me, Oliver Hampton! I must have a record somewhere in that garbage system of yours."

Officer Lahey then took out his phone and dialed his precinct. "Can you do a quick search for me? Oliver Hampton and…"

"Patrick Hampton," Oliver supplied, and crossed his arms.

"Patrick Hampton," the parole officer repeated, and turned his back from the group to have a private conversation with their technical analyst.

"Is that what you were doing with Michaela's laptop?" Asher asked him in a hushed voice, so that he won't be heard by his girlfriend. "You were hacking the government system, so you could put a marriage certificate."

"Yes," Oliver whispered back. "And you were my best man, so shut up before we get caught."

It only took another few seconds before the officer went back to the group with the information he needed. "Patrick and Oliver Hampton; married on the 26th of June 2015."

"The exact date that gay marriage was legalized in Michigan. So are we done here?" Oliver asked with great fake annoyance. "Coz you're wasting my time by asking these stupid questions when I could have taken care of my husband who really needs me right now."

"Nothing else," the officer replied. "I apologize for the intrusion. I'll be on my way."

"You better be."

"I'll see you, Asher, to our next appointment," Nate ordered in a gruff voice. "I'll let you miss today's session because of this emergency, but repeat it again, and I'll be forced to report this as serious misconduct. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Asher nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll accompany Officer Lahey," Michaela offered and guide the officer towards the exit, so she could explain to him the whole situation and apologize on behalf of her boyfriend's friend. "I'm sorry officer. It's not really a good time for them because…"

"And I thought joining Drama Club was a waste of time," Asher jested at his best friend when Michaela and Officer Lahey were far enough from them. "That was an Oscar-worthy performance. I didn't know you had it in you."

"I… I also didn't," Oliver closed his eyes, and released continuous huff of breaths. "I did good, right?" He asked after he calmed his body.

"You did great," Asher smiled and hugged his best friend. "Thank you."

"To infinity and beyond, right?" Oliver hugged him back, and quoted a line from their favorite movie.

"Infinity and beyond," Asher smiled. It was also the best way to describe their friendship.

"Come on. Man up." Asher pulled back from the hug, and pinched Oliver's cheeks. "You have a husband to take care of."

Oliver breathed deeply before turning the knob of the hospital room and re-entering the room; thankfully finding his amnesiac fake husband sedated and asleep.

* * *

 

**_23 Hours Ago_ **

"Come on, Oliver. Let's go home." Connor groaned from the ground. And was thankfully been awoken by the loud voices.

"He… Help…" Connor begged, but his plea was not loud enough to be heard. He started crawling out from the bushes, since he doesn't have the power to walk with his feet. "Help, pl… please." He begged as he crept towards where sound was originating from.

"Help," Connor said, a little bit louder this time when he saw a man jogging around the car, but it was still not loud enough to be heard. With the little strength that he had, Connor wobbly stood up from his position, and  _walk-run_  towards the car that the man got in.

"Help me," Connor uttered helplessly from behind the car.

_*Bam*_

And then there's only black.

* * *

 

 **Chapter Title: Patrick**  – to infinity and beyond – Asher and Oliver’s friendship

**Story Outline:**

\- asher and oliver conversation

-introducing oliver and Patrick-

-police came in arresting asher

**Scenes Included:**

\- robber aftermath

-connor overhearing the reason they broke uo

-oliver hacking to the system

**Chapter Reference:**

-The name 'Patrick' was supposed to be Connor's name, but the producers or writers changed it to Connor.

-june 26 2015 – is really the day that they legalized same sex marriage in Michigan

-Long Kiss a movie about a woman who lost her entire memory which was a former CIA agenty; while The Vow is a novel-based movie, characterized by Rachel mc Adams and Channing Tatum. In this movie, McAdams had a partial memory lost including her memories of her husband.

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	4. My Happy place

**** **BETAE'D BY MOMO015!**

A gift coz our babies got back together. Not really happy with how they gotten back together since it looks like Oliver only used Connor, BUT They kissed and made up.

Please read with caution. Mention of Death. START OF REWRITE.

* * *

 

_"Maybe it's not always about trying to fix something broken. Maybe it's about starting over and creating something better."_

* * *

"Fucking faggots,” Mr. Johnson, Oliver and Asher’s homophobic neighbor, spewed with disdain when he saw Asher, Connor and Oliver entering the back door from the parking lot. “You and your fairy disease!”

“What!? That’s not what you are shouting last night when you were sucking my dick!” Asher shouted back and gave Mr. Johnson a well-not-mannered finger.

“Fuck you!” Mr. Johnson shouted lastly before getting inside his own car.

“I’ll be glad to!”

“Uhmm… Welcome home," Oliver awkwardly exclaimed. “Just ignored that man. He had been like that ever since he moved here a year ago.”

“I swear that old man doesn’t know what’s coming to him,” Asher said in furious.

“Hey calm down. It’s over.” Oliver then ushered Connor and Asher towards the staircase, so they can go to his apartment on the third floor.

The apartment was decent. The living room walls were painted with gray paint; a television was placed up on the far end of the area, and out-of-place muted red couch set were situated in the middle of it. The hallway was in between two areas; on the left side was the open-kitchen, which was adjacent from the entry door, and on the other side was the bathroom.

"It's really… empty," Connor commented as he was guided by Oliver to sit on the couch in their living room.

"What's empty?" Oliver asked curiously, and sat beside Connor. "Oh, thank you," he added when Asher gave him a glass of water. "Come on, drink your meds first." He handed the oval white pill and the glass of water to Connor.

"Thanks," Connor said, but his hands were too shaky to get a grip of the glass.

"Here, let me help," Oliver offered, and put the pill inside Connor's mouth, and made him drink the water. "You're welcome," Oliver responded when Connor mouthed a thank you at him.

"The apartment; it's empty," was Connor's answer to Oliver's earlier question. "You really burned everything, didn't you?" He asked when he looked at the whole apartment, and there were no pictures of him or any sign that he used to live there.

"Oh, you heard," Oliver mumbled as he scratched the back of his head.

"I think the whole hospital did," Connor said and scratched his temple over the bandages wrapped around his fore head.

"I… I didn't want you to find out that way," Oliver amended.

"It's okay. I should know, I want to know where we stand right now."

"Patrick…"

"I might not even remember what had happened, but it must have hurt a lot for you to do all these things, to erase me from your life," Connor said ashamedly as he waved his unwounded hand to the whole apartment.

"Yes it did." Oliver lied.

"Can I ask you something?" Connor asked unsurely. He turned his whole body to the right side, so he can properly look at Oliver.

"Anything."

"How did we first meet?"

"At a bar," Oliver answered honestly, and bit his lip when he can't think of a story to continue with the lie.

"And?" Connor urged his husband to continue the story.

"We were at a bar," Oliver said again, buying himself more time to make up their fake love story. "Are you sure you want to know about it?"

"Yes," Connor nodded. "It might help me jog some memory."

"Well…" Oliver breathed inwardly. "The first time you approached me was at the bar, but you actually go to the same high school as me."

"At the bar? How can—"

"Fake ids," Asher supplied, sitting on the chair adjacent to theirs. "It was my birthday gift to him."

"The night of my birthday, Asher dragged me to a bar." Oliver continued with his story. "It was my first time to go there, and I didn't know what to do. I was awkwardly standing there alone, while Asher was dancing with another pretty blonde."

"You said I could do so," Asher complained.

"I just want Patrick to get the whole picture; it might remind him of something," Oliver coolly lied. "Anyway, when you approached me, I already knew who you were, but you didn't recognize me."

"How come?"

"I wasn't wearing my glasses at that time," Oliver simply replied, he continued when Connor still did not understand. "I was a wallflower in high school. Nobody really noticed me except Asher. But that day, I wore contact lenses and Asher made me put something I don't usually wear."

"Leather pants," Asher mouthed from Oliver's behind; curving his left hand on his mouth to look like he was whispering, when he really was not. "Super-hot."

"Anyway," Oliver rolled his eyes at his friend. "You said that you were in college and was just looking for someone to drink and have a nice conversation with. You still swept me off my feet, even though I knew you were already lying."

"You never told me that you knew me?" Connor asked as he scrunched his eyes; trying so hard to remember their first meeting.

"I did; the morning after."

"Morning after what?" Connor asked in confusion.

"After we… Uhmm… uh…"  _'Me and my big mouth'_ Oliver thought to himself.

"After you popped his cherry, man," Asher completed for Oliver. "…at the back of your car."

"I was your first?"

"Uhmm… uh... yeah," Oliver lied.

"So…I took your virginity at the back of my car?" Connor clarified.

"Pretty much."

"And we dated after that?"

"Not exactly. You have this _'I don't do boyfriends'_ rule," Oliver chuckled. "It's more of a booty call."

"You were fucking like rabbits," Asher said proudly added. "There was no room in the school that you did not fuck in."

"Asher!" Oliver shouted.

Connor raised his eyebrows; he coughed to cover his surprised reaction _. ‘So we have an active sex life.’_

"Well, it was true," Asher pouted when Oliver glared at him.

"Sorry about him," Oliver apologized for Asher's crass personality. "He knows everything about us; well about me. He's like my walking auto-biography."

"So we really did that?" Connor asked, his face had started to redden.

"Uhmmm… we were teenagers…" Oliver said as a way of explaining why they were fucking like animals at that time. "We had a very strong sex drive."

Connor nodded, still kind of surprised by this piece of information. "So when did we finally get together?"

"It was after Senior Prom," Oliver started and when took a sip from Connor's glass before continuing. "I was voted the Prom Queen, and you as the Prom King."

"We were outed?"

"Far from it actually. The whole school knew that we were gay; but you're like the alpha gay."

"Alpha gay?" Connor questioned. He knew what gay means, but he doesn't know what alpha gay was though.  _'Was that a new term that I should've understood immediately even without my memories?'_ He asked his blank mind.

"Yeah, have you seen you? You're like so hot," Oliver gestured at his fake husband. "Uhmmm… What I mean is that you don't look gay. Even though they knew you play for the other team, girls still want to sleep with you. You're also in the football team, so no one dared to bully you."

"But you?"

"I got the end of their hatred," Oliver said truthfully. "Oh don't be like that," he amended when he saw guilt in his fake husband's eyes. "It was already like that long before I met you. Being bullied pretty much sums up my whole life," he shrugged.

"How are you so dismissive about this?"

"I'm not trying to be dismissive. I just don't want to overwhelm your mind with all this information. You're still just recovering, you don't need added nonsense."

"Nothing about you is nonsense," Connor sincerely said as he wobbly grabbed his partner's right hand. "I want to know everything about my husband; about us. Every detail counts."

When Oliver and Connor just stared at each other, it was Asher who ruined the moment by coughing loudly.

"Maybe next time, okay?" Oliver continued, finally breaking their stares. "Next time I'll tell you about me."

"Okay," Connor agreed and pulled back his hand from his husband's.

"So going back to the story, it was our Senior Prom. We went there separately, and we don't socialize inside the school since we have different cliques, and we were always careful every time… we uhmmm… we meet up."

"Hook up," Connor supplied for him.

"Same thing," Oliver bit his lip before continuing. "So it was a surprise for us when they voted us Prom King and Queen; more for you than me, actually. I already knew that they were planning to humiliate me; I just didn't know that they will involve you too. Apparently, we weren't as careful as we thought to be. Some freshman punk wannabe saw us under the bleachers."

Connor then noticed Asher doing some elaborate illustration with his hand. Asher's right fist was going up from his mouth and down to his chest, and he pushed his tongue to his left cheeks every time his fist was closer to his mouth.

"I can see you, Asher," Oliver scolded his best friend. He really can't see Asher but based from Connor's wide-eyed reaction, he got a decent idea what he was doing. "I'm sorry," he murmured to Connor.

"It's kind of amusing, actually." Connor smiled. "Besides, we're husbands. I think you already saw me in more embarrassing situations. I just needed time to get comfortable to these stories."

"I did see you in much more embarrassing scenarios, but it's unfair because you don't remem—"

"If you already knew that they're going to do something to you during prom," Connor cut him off. He really doesn't like that term  _'You don't remember'_. He doesn't want his life to revolved about the things he can't remember. "Then why did you still come?"

"I want to see you in a tux." Oliver simply said. "Kind of petty, but I was already head over heels for you at that time. We weren't together-together, but by just being there, looking at you from a distant, I felt that we are already doing what normal teenage couples would do."

"That was—"

"Pathetic,"

"—sweet, actually" Connor muttered, looking intently at the man in front of him.

"Oh! Thank you," Oliver responded shyly, and by mannerism readjusted his eyeglasses. "Anyway, when they called your name, the whole gym got quiet and you were just standing there like a rock. That was your very first time to be bullied, and you couldn't handle the pressure. I tried to help you, but you just pushed me in the middle of the dance floor and run away," Oliver lamented.

"I did that?" Connor asked surprised by what he did to Oliver when they were young. "That must have been so embarrassing for you."

"It was more painful than embarrassing though," Oliver smiled tightly. "My first love turned his back on me, but on the bright side, it made me stronger than I ever was. I went to the stage, took my crown and cursed the whole school."

"Wow…" Connor said in surprise both in his past action, and how is husband handled it. "Oliver, I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to say it. We were so past that." Oliver smiled.

"So how did I finally pull my shit together?"

"Asher," Oliver pointed at his best friend who transferred seat on top of the kitchen's counter.

Asher then raised the can of beer he had been drinking as a sign of acknowledgement. "I got to do what I got to do for my man."

"You kept your distance. You and I stopped hooking up after prom, but Asher already knew my feelings for you. He made you think that he and I are dating," Oliver chuckled. "You knew that we were friends from the beginning, but when I got back from my suspension, Asher becomes clingier."

"Green was a good color for you," Asher added while laughing.

"Wait!" Connor tried to straighten out the time line. "You got suspended because of that, for cursing the school."

"Yup."

"That was so unfair." Connor said incredulously. "And the students who made that prank, they got away?"

"Justice was never on our side." Oliver nodded, and continued with the story. "Asher and I always eat our lunches together, but this time Asher would always feed me his food. He would always walk me to my classes. He would weirdly laugh loudly, and he kept doing these sexual innuendos. I didn't know what he was doing at that time; I just thought he was being protective after prom."

"You thought I fell for you," Asher interceded.

"Well, you didn't tell me what you were doing. How would I know?" Oliver flung the throw pillow to Asher, but the latter managed to catch it. "Then one night, out of the blue—just like in those cheesy chick flicks I loved watching—you showed up at my doorstep to apologize."

"And confessed your undying love for him," Asher added. "You started dating after that. You're welcome, by the way."

"Thank you," Connor said, not even sure what he was thanking for, but he still did so to appease his husband's best friend.

"But it didn't last though." Oliver explained further.

"If we were so great, what had happened to us?" Connor asked curiously.

"We went to different colleges. You went to Stanford, and I stayed here in Michigan."

"What did I study?"

"Business," Oliver replied immediately. "You went there to study Business. The long distance relationship worked for us for a while; you would fly back here during the holidays, we would always chat on Skype, and we even sent handwritten letters to each other, but the distance eventually got to us. We both had expected that we're going to break up, I just didn't have the guts to do it to you."

"So… I was the one who broke up with you?"

"Over Skype," Oliver added.

"That was… kind of rude," Connor muttered.

"Not really," Oliver replied, scrunching his nose. "It would have been harder for us to do it face-to-face. I might have not let you go."

"So what happened next?"

"Oh!" Oliver realized that Connor was expecting for more. "After college, you went back here, we got back together, moved in and eventually got married." He continued in one breath.

Connor felt like he missed something important; the way Oliver told the detailed story of how they met was entirely different from the rushed story of how they got back together and gotten married.

"And then I cheated?" Connor assumed that it was the reason why Oliver didn't elaborate on the next part of the story. "How did you found out?" He asked when Oliver nodded his head.

"I'm just gonna…"Asher motioned to go to the fire exit, when he sensed that the air among them became too heavy. He went outside, so he can give the fake couple the privacy they needed. He was however ignored by the other two men.

"Are you really sure you want to know?" Oliver asked again. "I don't want to pressure you."

"I… I have to know, please," Connor begged.

"You told me," Oliver breathed deeply. ' _One lie after another'_

"We were fighting one night," Oliver started again. "I don't even remember what it was about. We just kept shouting at each other, all the pent up frustration just exploded into that one fight. I kicked you out, and I regretted it the moment you walked out of the apartment."

"Go on please, I needed this," Connor begged when Oliver stopped mid-story.

"I called you, I looked for you everywhere when you didn't come home that night. I was on the verge of calling the police when you came rushing in. You were disheveled and crying and you just kept saying that you were sorry. I thought it was just about the fight, but then…"

"Then?" Connor insisted, and grabbed Oliver's right hand.

"You told me that you went to this bar, that you did shots. Like many… many shots, and you ended up going home with some guy. You said that you were sorry, but I didn't believe you. I kicked you out; for real this time. I threw all your stuff, and I burned all of our pictures, everything that reminds me of you."

"I… uh…" Connor can't believe that he would have cheated on his husband just because of one stupid fight. "Do you know him?"

"No, and neither do you," Oliver said sadly. "You said that you can't remember anything," he laughed at the irony of the situation. "You said that he was just a random stranger; that you wouldn't have recognized him even if you saw him in the streets."

"Sorry."

"I know, you've already told me a million times," Oliver slightly smiled and tightened his grip around the other man's hand before letting go. "So yeah, that's the long sad cliché story of how we broke up," Oliver concluded, eyes downcast, unable to stomach the guilt in his fake husband's eyes. ' _He doesn't have to feel that way when everything I told him was a complete lie.'_

"How…" Connor started. "How can I fix this?"

"I think this was enough for one night," Oliver ignored him, and stood up from the couch. "I'll get you some jammies, so you could change." He then ran to the end of the hall where the one and only bedroom was situated, and quickly grabbed his old pajamas for the other man. He then ran back to his fake husband, helped him from the couch, and guided him towards the bathroom.

"Left knob is for hot; right for cold." Oliver informed him, and hung the pajamas over the towel rail, and excused himself out of the small bathroom. “You sure you can handle this yourself?”

“Thank you.” Connor smiled and closed the bathroom door. “I’m good.”

"I didn't know who I should be more afraid for?" Asher muttered under his breath when he was sure that Patrick won’t be able to hear their conversation from the noise of the running water.

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked as he picked up the glass from the coffee table.

"Should I be more worried for you coz you have a complete stranger in your house," Asher said in hushed tone, not wanting the fake husband to hear their conversation. "Or for him because you can take advantage of your situation anytime. Being married and all."

"What!?" Oliver smiled; amused at his best friend. "I'm not… Oh my… what?!" Oliver gaped, finally realizing what Asher just insinuated. He honestly can't believe his best friend would think that he'll force his fake husband to have sex with him.

"Greek god, remember?" Asher laughed at him.

"I… uh…Fuck you!" Oliver settled with a curse instead. "Just go home, Ash! That’s not even funny."

"Oh I know this is not the ass you wanted." Asher slapped his right ass cheek, and strutted towards the fire exit again. "Oliver?" He tentatively addressed his friend; tone suddenly changed. "He's not… You know that he's not—"

"I know, I know," Oliver cut him off before Asher can finish. "I just, I just didn't know what to tell him. I didn’t think again."

"Oliver…”

"I know," Oliver closed his eyes. "I just… I just forgot that he is—"

"He's not him," Asher finished for his best friend, and smiled sadly before exiting the apartment using the fire exit which was connected to his own apartment. "Nice story, by the way," he sadly yelled.

Oliver intentionally bumped his forehead to the nearest wall numerous times. "What the fuck did you got yourself into?” He muttered to himself.

* * *

 

"Oh, you're still awake," Oliver stated the obvious when he entered his bedroom, and saw his fake husband awake and was sitting at the edge of the bed.

"I don't remember which side you sleep on," Connor whispered even before Oliver can ask the reason why he wasn't sleeping yet.

"I prefer the left," Oliver answered, and crossed the room to get to his dresser to get some fresh clothes.

"Aren't you going to sleep yet?" Connor questioned him when Oliver was about to leave their bedroom.

"Oh… uhmmm…" Oliver stuttered, unconsciously touching his eye glasses. "I can't tonight. I already rented a movie and it will expire if I don't watch it," he said in one breath.

“Okay, good night.” Connor solemnly nodded, and curled himself in a fetal position.

Oliver, recognizing the broken voice of his husband, felt guilty. He dropped the items on the bed, and approached him, kneeling beside the bed. “hey are you okay? What are you feeling right now?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know what to feel. I feel like I’m trapped in my own mind maze,” Connor said truthfully.

“I’m so—“

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, it’s my fucking mind that has the problem.” Connor then pulled the blanket over his head. “I thought that when I get home, I’ll feel something. I’ll feel home or like my memories will magically return. But I can’t feel anything, not even a vague feeling from the stories you told me. I’m really trying to remember.”

For a moment, Connor thought Oliver had already left and gave him some alone time, but he was surprised when he felt a piece of clothing tossed over to him. Connor uncovered himself from under the sheets.

“Dress up. We’re going somewhere,” Oliver instructed as he pull another jacket from the dresser.

* * *

 

"Do you have any suicidal tendencies?" Patrick asked when Oliver dragged him at a train track. “It’s so cold,” he complained; his hands were rubbing his own biceps to generate a little warmth.

Oliver just laughed at Patrick, and ran faster until he was in the middle of the track. “Welcome to my lost place!” Oliver shouted as he twirls his body and flay his hands.

“Your what?” Connor followed him and look around the area. It was very dark, the only thing that illuminating the area is the four yellow light posts.

“Lie down,” Oliver instructed him, and Connor obliged. Oliver helped Connor lied down comfortable on the tracks, he positioned himself upside-down-beside his fake husband, so that the top of his head is touching Patrick’s left shoulder.

“Wow,” Patrick uttered when he saw the cluster of stars on the sky. “This is one hell of a view.”

“I know, right?” Oliver answered him whilst looking at the dark-bright sky; his hands were clasped together over his stomach, and his left feet was crossed over the right. “When I was young, my mom would always tell me that I should never let my emotions dictate my actions, nor should I let it bottle up inside me. This is my outlet, I go to places every time I’m being overwhelmed by a feeling. When I’m feeling too sad, I go to the seaside. When I’m feeling happy, I’d climb up a rooftop of the tallest building. And when I’m feeling lost and confused, I go here.”

“ahh,” was Connor’s only answer. He appreciated the comfortable silence for a few more seconds before breaking it with a question. “How did you know about this? Do you and Asher come by here often?”

Oliver laughed before answering, “No. Not this place, anyway. Asher knew about the other places though. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here, since I felt… lost. Asher was actually the reason why I stopped going here.”

“Oliver?” Connor started; twisted his head to the left so he could look at his husband.

“Hmmm?”

“Are you and Asher like…”

“Like what?” Oliver insisted him to finish his question. He twisted his head to the right, looked at Patrick and unconsciously raised his eyebrows. “Wait. You think Asher and I are…?”

“I mean, he had been with you, your whole life, and then I cheated on you. I mean, I know what---“

“No, no, no, no,” Oliver denied, then laughed at the idea that he and Asher was a couple. “Just no.”

“I just thought cause you two are really really close to each other,” Patrick added, remembering how Asher and Oliver were too close to each other which was already borderline weird.

“Well, I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for Asher.” Oliver sighed, put his right arm under his head, and continued his stargazing. “My mom died when I was in high school, and my dad was long gone before then. Asher and his family, they took me in even though there was no room and even less money. And one day, Asher and I got into a little bit of trouble with the police.”

“The police?”

“Another story,” Oliver smiled. “They were on their way and no way we could get out of it without one of us acting as decoy for the other.”

“So Asher took the fall for you?”

“Yeah, he did.” Oliver chuckled sadly. “I still remember what he said to me. ‘ _You’re supposed to use that brain of yours for something, not be dragged down by stupid bastards like me_ …’”

“He was right.”

“Yeah he was,” Oliver sniffed. “It cost him his life, so anyone who wants to compete for my loyalty with Asher is not really in a fair fight.”

“Oli—“

*toot toot*

*toot toot*

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Connor panicked when he saw a train light coming towards them. “Get up, Oliver!!!”

“What are you doing?” Oliver still laughing at his fake husband’s reaction. “Lie down, This is the best part.”

“Oh my g**!!! Get up!” Connor was about to stand up, but Oliver’s hand hindered him from doing so. “I married a fucking lunatic!”

“You trust me, right?” Oliver shouted his question since the noise from the train is getting louder every second.

“Yes! I actually do!”

“Then Shout!”

“What?!”

“SHOUT!!!”

Then the train passed, going through the track beside them.

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Oliver shouted first, and when Connor realized that the train was in the other track, he copied his husband. “AHHHHHHHHH!!!” Connor shouted, his jugular nerve becoming obvious as he tried to even the noise from the train with his own voice.

They laugh as they shout; stealing glances at each other, and when the train had fully passed them, laughter was only thing that were coming out from the two men.

“Ollie?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can this be my place too?” Connor heaved out, head twisted awkwardly as he stared at his husband’s eyes. “My happy place?”

* * *

 

Chapter Title:  My happy place – Connor referring to Oliver’s place as his.

**Story Outline:**

-Homophobic neighbor

\- Fake details

-train scene

 

**Scenes Included:**

-no pictures

-connor saying sorry to oliver

**Chapter Reference:**

-I took a scene from Klaine and put it here. Blink and you'll miss.

-"what normal couples would do," Canon-Oliver's line when Canon-connor demamded to have sex with him

-connor and oliver s02e02 scene. How oliver got it.

-season1 episode 13 – the thorn birds (movie I rented)

**Follow me on my accounts:**

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**Review to Encourage!**

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. JIf Extra Crunchy.

**BETAE'D BY MOMO015!**

And I thought everything will go back to the way they were, but Connor just had to sleep with Thomas. Nice twist though my heart aches.

**READ WITH CAUTION!**

* * *

 

“There’s you; there’s me. And then, there’s the craving in between.”

* * *

 

**_A month ago…. Give or take._ **

He rolled the unconscious man to the edge of the lot until he was covered by the bushes, and then run back to grab the other stolen items from the ground. He got inside the victim's car, and started driving away; leaving the unconscious man behind.

“You self-absorbed bastards don’t deserve these things,” the robber muttered to himself as he drove off from the crime scene. He glanced at the stolen items on the passenger seat next to him and smirked. “I just hit a jackpot.”

The criminal took the golden ring amongst it and wore it to his left ring finger. “It really suits me,” he whispered to no one as he admired the jewelry on his hand; discerning if he should sell it like the other items or if he should just keep it to himself. His mind still wandered as he picked the stolen wallet to get some gas money; accidentally dropping it to the car’s floor.

After double checking that the road was empty, he unbuckled his seatbelt and bent down to quickly grab the wallet; not noticing that he had maneuver the wheel to the opposite lane. He sat up straight, and his eyes went wide when he saw two headlights coming right at him. He instinctively swerved to his left.

The robber hit the break immediately, but the car won’t stop. “Fuck!” The rental car hit the rail of the cliff open. The man cried for his life as the car plummeted down the unhinged terrain, tumbling as it goes down and finally crashing to a lone tree.

*boom!!!*

The car instantly exploded, burning the man alive.

* * *

 

 “You didn’t come to bed again,” Connor stated sleepily as he walked to their kitchen counter where Oliver was making their breakfast.

“What?” Oliver spluttered, and stopped slicing the fruit in his hand. “Of course I did,” he lied. “I made your favorite, Blueberry pancake with lots and lots of syrup.” He placed the breakfast on the counter, and continued making the lemonade juice.

Ever since Patrick started living in his apartment, Oliver made it a point to always go home late at night and sleep on the couch; giving his fake husband outrageous excuses why he can’t go to bed yet.

_“I still have some reports to finish.”_

_“I rented a movie I need to watch.”_

_“I’ll go to Asher’s.”_

_“I’m not sleepy yet.”_

The excuses were endless. Out of all the lies that Oliver had told him, Connor did not believe his husband this time.

“Really? Because you stop cutting lemon wedges when you answered,” Connor accused as he approached his husband. “You want to know why? Because the part of your brain that handles the details of small tasks like cutting lemon wedges also engages when someone is creating lies,” Connor said like he was an expert with human behavior.

“What?” Oliver looked at him incredulously. “Where did you even learn that?”

“I don’t know,” Connor said unsurely as he sat on the stool by the kitchen counter. “I just… I just did.”

“You really need to stop watching those late-night crime TV shows,” Oliver assumed it was the origin of Patrick’s sudden expertise. “Why watch those anyway when it will just have bored you to sleep?” He smiled as he leaned over the counter.

“I was waiting for you to come home,” Connor replied instead, looking intently at his shell-shock husband. “Ollie, I didn't know how many second chances you already gave me but this time… this time I'm going to make things right."

Oliver just stared at him, unable to form a proper response to that.  _'There's nothing to make right in the first place,_ ' his mind supplied.

“What shaking’ bacon!?” Asher exclaimed as he entered the loft, saving Oliver from replying to his fake husband. 

“Just enjoying the morning with my two favorite guys,” Oliver answered his best friend uncomfortably, and resumed preparing their meal, turning his back from them.

“Ooohhh! Bacon!” Asher yelled in excitement as he attempted to take the bacon strips from the plate, but Patrick scolded him for having dirty hands. “Fine, Mr. Clean freak,” he grumbled. He swiped his hands on Patrick’s shirt and ran to the bathroom.

“Jeez,” Patrick said in disgust whereas Oliver laughed at their antics.

“Hey, Hampton!” Asher yelled from the bathroom.

“Yes?” The fake couple answered at the same time. Oliver blushed immensely, forgetting momentarily that he was not the only Hampton inside the apartment.  The concept of being married was still new for him.

“Your light bulb is busted, do you have any spare?” Asher asked them while he removed the broken bulb from the ceiling.

“I think I still have another one inside the broom closet,” Oliver wandered as he cleaned his hands with the kitchen’s hand towel.

“Let me get it,” Connor offered, and stood up from his seat, but not before taking a bite of his favorite husband-made pancakes.

“Do you even know where it is?” Oliver asked as he flipped another pancake over the fry pan.

“Duh,” Connor raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course, I don’t.”

Oliver smiled. Sometimes… sometimes he forgot that Patrick had lost his memory, that they are just a normal boring domesticated co-habituating couple. Sometimes he just wanted to let go and let himself be Patrick’s husband; he wanted to go home earlier, sleep next to him, and kiss him goodnight. Sometimes he fantasized being really in love with this stranger.

“Oh, its— “

“I have amnesia, Ollie. I’m not blind,” Connor gave Oliver a winning smirk before vanishing to the broom closet.

But often than not, Oliver preferred not to feel at all than be drowned in his own guilty conscience.

“Hey, what’s this pink box?” Connor thought aloud as he reached the bright pink box that caught his attention. He tiptoed so that he can reach the box on the top-shelf.

“Shit!” Oliver cursed and scrambled to get to Patrick before his husband could open the box.

“Is that?” Asher asked, and followed Oliver. “Why the fuck is it still there?”

“Patrick!” Oliver shouted suddenly appearing on the doorway. “Don’t touch that!” He demanded but still not stepping inside the closet to stop his fake husband from getting the box.

“Why? What’s in the box?” Connor was perplexed. ‘ _Why Oliver doesn’t want him to get that box?_ _’_

“Nothing, it’s just a bunch of stuff.”

“What are you hiding from me?” Connor accused his husband as he tried to reach for the container again.

“Sex toys!” Asher shouted as he entered the small space, and pushed the box farther from the edge of the shelf. “You and your crazy gay sex.”

“Oh… are we into like BDSM?” Connor asked wide-eyed. He didn’t know if the idea appalled or turned him on.

“NO, no, no, no, no,” Oliver repeated. “Those were gifts. We haven’t used them. I don’t want you to see it because... Uhmm… I don’t want you to get a wrong idea of our relationship.”

“We don’t use them, but we still kept them?” Connor asked for clarification as he walked back to their kitchen. “Why don’t we just throw it away?”

“Asher gave it to us. He’ll get mad if we do,” Oliver said in a hurry. “Nice save,” he whispered to his best friend as he guided Patrick outside the closet. “Ash, get the bulb please.”

“Oh yeah, yeah right. That’s my wedding gift,” Asher as he walked back to the kitchen with the new bulb in hand. “That’s fucking expensive, man!” He faked grumbled and sat on the stool.

“Anyway, I have to go or I’ll be late. Just leave the bulb there, I’ll fix it later.” Oliver won’t really be late, but he can’t think of any other excuse to get out from another sex conversation. “Bye, Patrick,” Oliver waved his hand to his husband, took his shoulder bag, and kissed Asher’s head as goodbye not noticing the forlorn look that Patrick made.

“Bye,” Asher replied with his mouth muffled with his breakfast.

“Wait!” Connor shouted. “Uhmmm… aren’t you forgetting something?” He asked as he unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh. Oh.” Oliver remembered. “Phone. Thanks, Pat.” He then grabbed his iPhone from the coffee table and exited the apartment.

“You forgot my kiss goodbye,” Connor mumbled to himself. He understood the depth of Asher and Oliver’s friendship, but why does he still feel a tinge of jealousy over their pure and wholesome relationship.

* * *

 

**Wanted: Part-time bagger**

The flyer from the grocery store had indicated.

“Hey! What are you reading?” Oliver interrupted Patrick from his thoughts.

“Oh, nothing,” Patrick dismissed his husband, and hurriedly put the yellow flyer to his back pocket. “Did you get everything?”

“Yup, come on. Let’s check out,” Oliver then pushed the grocery cart to the nearest counter. The cashier started to punch the items one by one when Oliver remembered that he they were almost out of peanut butter. “Pat, can you grab some peanut butter.”

“Sure,” Patrick happily nodded, and went to aisle 7 where all the fillings and spreads are stacked together. He was baffled however which brand of peanut butter he should get though. He took a jar of Skippy and Jif, so he could get a compare it together.

“Skippy is healthier, but Jif is made of 90% nuts,” Patrick mumbled to himself, still contemplating which he should pick. He was about to get both, and show it to Oliver, so his husband could pick which brand he liked more when a he heard a purring to his ear.

“I didn’t know reading nutritional facts can be so… sexy,” a man, maybe in his late twenties, a little bit shorter than he is, and eyes made for seduction.

“Already taken, buddy,” Patrick was about to wave his hand to him to show his wedding ring, but he forgot that he doesn’t have it anymore with him. “I’m already married,” Patrick said instead, and took a step backward from the other man.

“He doesn’t have to know,” the man persisted, stepping a little bit nearer to him.

“Look man, you’re not my type.” Patrick took another step backward. “I don’t want to mess things up with Oliver.” Patrick stayed though; he didn’t want this stranger following him to Oliver. He didn’t want Oliver to see another man flirting with him.

“Did you just say that your husband’s name is Oliver?” The stranger asked in surprise, stepping backwards as he put his hand on his mouth.

“Hey, you okay?” Patrick asked worried about the sudden change of the man’s demeanor.

“I’m okay,” the stranger shrugged, and stood up straight again. “I was just wondering, it’s… it’s not Oliver Hampton, is it?”

“Yeah. How do you know him?”

“Just… we’re from the same high school.” The stranger bit his lip, and momentarily stared Patrick from head to toe. “I didn’t… didn’t know he was married.”

“He’s here, if you want you could—“

“No!” The other man protested, shocking Patrick from his reaction. “I mean, I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry about earlier. I was just trying to be playful.”

“It’s cool.”

The stranger then bent to the stack of peanut butter, picked a jar, and gave it to Patrick. “He might like this.” He then turned around, and left Patrick.

Patrick then put the other jars back, and goes for the brand that the stranger picked. He went back to same counter where Oliver and the cashier were patiently waiting.

“Oh Pat, I forgot it’s supposed to be—“

“Jif. Extra Crunchy,” Patrick finished for him as he wiggled the jar; still baffled by the stranger’s knowledge about his husband’s taste.

“You really do know me,” Oliver smiled and took the jar from Patrick, and gave it to the cashier.

 _‘Apparently, not just me.’_ Patrick put a fake smile though.

* * *

“I’m home,” Oliver greeted, expecting Patrick to be sleeping in the living room. This was their set up ever since he had lied to the stranger almost a month ago. It was really awkward since he had to pretend to be Patrick’s husband when he really doesn’t have any idea who the stranger really was.

The first few days had been great, but not as simple as he expected to be. He and Asher were able to formulate lies about the stranger; his hobbies, his job, his family what he likes and doesn’t like. They gave him a new and fake identity. And Patrick, despite the situation he was in—losing your memories and all, was surprisingly coping well.

Patrick took every lie into heart; especially the husband part. Patrick would cook for Oliver, prepare his bath and do laundry. It may be small random things, but it’s big enough to make Oliver’s day more vibrant than ever.

Oliver knew that Patrick was just trying to compensate for the cheating that they had lie about before. He can see the craving to be forgiven and be acknowledged in his husband’s eyes every single day; however, no matter how many times Oliver reassure him, Patrick can’t seem to believe that he had already forgiven him.

“Oh yeah… he’s with Asher,” Oliver mumbled to himself when he remembered that Patrick had a doctor’s appointment today, and he was not able to go with his husband today because of work. Thankful that Asher stepped in, and volunteered to take Patrick instead.

Perhaps, this alone time is a good idea for him. Oliver then rushed to their bedroom, quickly took off his clothes, sat on the bed, and played some music to get into the right mood. He was too excited to finally touch himself that he did not hear the apartment door being open and closed again.

Connor tiredly trudged towards the apartment; making a beeline to the kitchen to quench his thirst, but his focus was redirected when he heard a moan coming from the bedroom. “Oliver?” He whispered as he slowly walked to their bedroom.

The room’s door was slightly ajar, but wide enough to see the mirror reflecting the Connor’s naked husband on the bed. Connor saw his husband sitting on their bed; eyes closed and legs were spread wide open. His jaw dropped as he had finally seen his husband without any hindrance. He had noticed Oliver’s biceps before and he had imagined that his husband was packing underneath the sweaters he usually wore. But damn it, his imagination was nothing compared to the live one. His husband was magnificent. His husband’s six pack abs and that long half-hard cock are just too perfect.

Connor felt like a freaking pervert watching husband masturbate. He can literally just go inside the room, and help Oliver with his problem, but his feet won’t listen to him. _‘Just enjoy the show,’_ his mind supplied.

Oliver released a moan when he circled his nipple with his left hand; tweaking and pulling at them until they were hard.  He then used his other hand to fondle his balls, squeezing it gently as he bucked off the bed.

Connor cringed, realizing how he had gotten hard just from watching his partner touch himself.

Oliver then finally encircled his fist around his half-hard cock, pumping it so slowly. His left hand then travelled from his chest down to his gaping hole; sliding his middle finger in it. “I love how you touch me there, baby,” he muttered hotly, making the voyeur slightly jump from his position.

Connor thought for a moment that Oliver already saw him, but his husband’s eyes are still closed. He doesn’t even know why he breathed a sigh of relief when Oliver still didn’t notice him. ‘ _Maybe voyeurism is an old kink of mine_ ,’ He half-stated, half-asked his old self.

Oliver rolled over and reached under their bed.

Connor frowned when he only had a slight glance at his husband’s fully erect cock, but that frown disappeared quickly when he saw Oliver’s smooth ass sticking up in the air.

Oliver then resumed his previous position; legs spread wide open, and this time he had a vibrator and lube in hand. “I want you inside me,” Oliver said giving the toy a long slippery lick from its base to the tip and then sucked the tip of the vibrator. He then slowly dripped the lube all over the toy.

“Turn around,” Connor silently ordered from his position. For a second there, Connor thought that Oliver heard him because his husband really did turn around and knelt on all fours.

Oliver slowly slid the vibrator inside; closing his eyes as the pleasure of being filled hit him. “Fuck, baby.”

“So hot for me,” Connor muttered before unbuttoning his pants and fondling himself whilst never taking his eyes off his husband. He intensely watched Oliver slowly pump the vibrator in and out of his ass.

“Oh baby! I’m close! I’m close!” Oliver shouted in pleasure repeatedly. “Faster please!”

Connor can’t take it anymore; he needs to feel his husband against him. He needed to come inside him.

“Touch me!” Oliver shouted.

Connor was about to rush inside the room and do what his husband had wanted. His hand was already on the door knob, ready to reveal himself from his hiding place, but Oliver’s next words stilled him from his position.

“Ahhh!!! Faster A… Adonis!” Oliver screamed lastly before coming in between his thighs.

Connor’s hard on went limp instantly. Hearing your husband orgasm with another man’s name was a total buzzkill. He just so wants to trudged inside the room, and yell at Oliver. Scream at him and start a fight over his husband’s lover, but he doesn’t have the guts to do so.

Patrick did this to himself. He cheated on Oliver, and Oliver found a different lover.

“Are we so that broken?” He let a tear fall from his eye as he let go of the door knob. He quietly walked outside of the apartment, and waited for 5 minutes before coming in again. _‘Was he the stranger from the supermarket?’_

“I’m home!” Connor announced with fake enthusiasm, and greeted a flushed Oliver carrying their dirty duvet.

“Oh, you’re back. How was it?” Oliver greeted him as he put the duvet inside the laundry basket by the bathroom door.

 _‘He needed to act like an adult.’_ Connor’s mind supplied before faking a smile and told Oliver how his day went.

* * *

 

 **Chapter Title** : Jiff, Extra Crunchy – Oliver’s fave peanut butter

**Story Outline:**

Asher’s intervention

Stranger @ grocery

Oliver see Connor doing himself

**Scenes Included:**

\- robber aftermath

**Chapter Reference:**

-the cutting lemon wedges lie scene is from Scorpion Season 1 Episode 2.

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